


Pattycakes

by BoxofBones



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Breeding, Breeding Kink, Character Improvement, Dark Thor, Dominant Thor, F/M, Light stalking though, Manipulative Behavior, Past Relationship(s), Possessive Behavior, Possessive Thor, Pregnancy, Size Kink, Smut, Some class drama, Stalking, Thor is not a great guy, dad thor, dubcon, dubcon elements, manipulative thor, not extreme but still significant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:00:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 40,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28939617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoxofBones/pseuds/BoxofBones
Summary: Like they say, it really does just take one time... Patricia Hodgins knows that better than anyone. She’s got even worse luck when it comes to her child’s father: Billionaire playboy Thor Odinson. He’s selfish and manipulative; and Patty’s not sure which outcome frightens her more—killing him or letting him worm his way into her heart.
Relationships: Thor/Original Female Character(s), Thor/Original Female Character(s) of Color
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	1. Only Once

**Author's Note:**

> Hey folks! Things to note: there will be some manipulation of a younger, inexperienced character by an older man. I *obviously* don’t condone these kinds of actions, but this is fictional, and there are consequences (rightfully so) for these actions. Please refer to the tags, and let me know if I missed anything. Please enjoy!

“Patty. Earth to Patty, you in there?” Wanda’s snapping fingers appeared in front of Patricia’s face, and she jumped back with a shrill, surprised squeak. Patty felt her cheeks heat as her friends laughed at her shock. She couldn’t blame them—she’d zoned out, staring unseeingly at traffic as they waited in line. She took a few steps forward into the space that had cleared up in front of her, and the irritated murmurs further down the line quieted. 

“Sorry. I spaced. Moving up.” 

“We noticed,” Wanda replied, laughing. Patricia watched as her friend dug around inside her purse for first a cigarette, and then a lighter. “It’s gonna be worth the wait, I promise.” 

Behind her, America snorted. “Yeah, whatever. That’s what you said about Two-Five-Three, and the music was wack as  _ fuck _ .”

“What, so I’m not entitled to one flop? Look at this line and then tell me I’m just talking shit,” She snapped back, exhaling smoke from her nostrils. Her red lipstick had left a perfect ring on the filter, leaving smudges on her pale fingers as she talked. “Besides, what else were you guys going to do tonight? Play yahtzee?” 

“I’m offended you’d suggest that,” Patty replied, sniffing. “This is an Uno house, goddamn you.” She poked her friend in the shoulder accusingly. “This blasphemy? I won’t hear it.” 

They were only a few bodies away from the front of the line, which Patricia was grateful for. It was true that Wanda usually had an eye for the best, most interesting venues in the city, but waiting in line to get inside was never particularly fun. Patricia shifted from foot to foot, her borrowed heels clacking on the pavement. Wanda had insisted on them, of course. 

_ The man-killers,  _ Patricia thought amusedly, snickering. She glanced down at them, and wiggled her toes. They were about four inches too high for her, but they looked  _ amazing,  _ the gladiator style leather wrapping halfway up her calf. She wrapped a lock of her kinky black hair around her finger before releasing it—the braidout that she’d planned had come out perfectly, her thick coils framing her face neatly. 

“Next.” 

Music boomed loudly in ears as they were ushered inside by the large bouncer, shedding their coats at the door. The base was so deep that her chest vibrated with it, and suddenly she didn’t regret donning the skimpy, milkmaid style dress that America had talked her into buying just weeks before. The air inside was thick and heavy, and the club was packed with bodies. She could see now why there had been so many people in line, including them. The lighting was tinted lavender, and several chandeliers of differing lengths hung from the arched, vaulted cielling. The building clearly used to be some sort of church that had been converted into a nightclub, and they’d kept some of the more religious ostentation, like the stained glass windows. 

One of her friends tapped her shoulder, and Patty turned to face them. 

“Bar,” Wanda mouthed, pointing behind her. The bar was on the far side of the massive room, near some very sleek looking booths. Patricia picked her way across the dance floor after her friends, joining them at the bar. People were in constant motion around them, jostling them as they waited for the bartender’s attention. The music wasn’t  _ quite _ so loud over here, and they could hear one another if they were practically shouting. 

“Shots?” America asked, and Patricia gave her the thumbs up. They were here to celebrate after all, and she was feeling ready to let loose. America had a propensity for tequila, which Patty normally avoided. A particularly nasty memory from sophomore year served as a reminder not to imbibe too much of that particular poison—but tonight, she was going to disregard that warning. Just for a little while, anyway. 

When their drinks finally came, Patty linked arms with her two friends at the elbow, each of them holding a shot glass to another girl’s lips. 

“What are we toasting?” Wanda asked, grinning at them. “I’m accepting suggestions.”

“Being fucking  _ done _ with school?” America raised an eyebrow sarcastically. “No greater joy than never having to write another goddamn paper. Or log onto j-stor ever again.”

“Not finding jobs,” Patricia supplied dryly, remembering just how  _ lacking _ her job search had been going prior to and now after graduation.  _ Can’t forget that frickin’ gem.  _ “Oh wait, no. Working retail for the next six years while I try desperately to break into my field.” 

“That’s… way too realistic Pat,” America replied dryly, snickering. 

With that, they tipped the shot glasses up, swallowing down the burning liquid. Patricia sputtered, clearing her throat as she set her glass back down on the bar face down. It had been a little over week since graduation, and none of them really had the faintest idea what came next. America had a job offer in Philly—some programming thing, but she hadn’t given them her notice yet, or clued any of them in on whether or not she’d be taking it. And Wanda was content to freelance until some graphic design company or other picked her up. 

Like her friends, Patricia hadn’t really picked a direction. The Museum of Natural History still hadn’t gotten back to her about her application, though her professor had said he’d put in a good word for her. She still had her job at the clothing store, where she’d coincidentally met America and by way of her, Wanda—so it wasn’t as though she couldn’t tread water for a little while. 

It was a rather strange feeling, a little like standing on the edge of a cliff. There were so many options, so many routes forward… But also a sheer fucking drop, and spiky, painful death if she so much as stumbled on her way down. 

America pressed another shot into Patricia’s hands, distracting her from her thoughts. She threw it back, closing her eyes and wrinkling her nose as she drank it all down in one swallow. She coughed a little before reaching for one of the lime slices the bartender had prepared for them, along with a dash of salt on the tip of her finger. As she licked it, her gaze drifted up the bar idly, only for ice to run down her spine as she locked eyes with someone. 

His bright blue eyes wrinkled at the corners as he grinned at her, exposing perfectly straight, white teeth. Patty’s eyes widened.  _ Oh fuck.  _ Without thinking, she stepped aside rapidly, blocking eye contact with Wanda’s head awkwardly. She must have looked stricken, because Wanda stared at her, her expression confused. 

“Patty what’s the problem? What’s up?” She turned this way and that, craning her neck as Patricia tried to stop her. 

“Nothing, oh  _ christ _ , Wanda! Seriously, nothing—” Her cheeks were hot. It was already embarrassing having hidden, but when Wanda suddenly snapped back to attention, a sly smile on her face, Patricia felt her mortification double. 

“I see you’ve spotted your first kill of the night,” She replied coyly, twirling a lock of her hair. America was laughing behind her, and for the life of her, Patricia couldn’t calm the burning in her cheeks. He was handsome—blonde, chiseled features, a playful smile on his lips. She clapped a hand to her forehead. “Ooh, and he’s a little older, too. I always knew you liked them… mature.” 

“My _ what _ ?” She snapped. “We’ve been here like ten minutes.” Patricia hoped the disdain in her voice was more convincing than it felt. She’d reacted like a little kid—and she still was, hiding behind Wanda so that the handsome stranger couldn’t get another good look at her face. In part because of her own frustration at her shy reaction, and mainly because it couldn’t have been  _ her _ that he was looking at. Patricia took a deep breath and straightened her back. 

“He’s totally looking at you.” America murmured, digging her elbow into Patty’s sternum. She refused to look for a moment, steeling herself. How embarrassing would it be if he was making eyes at some girl behind her? She peeked around Wanda’s smiling face, and he was leaned against the bar, his chin on his hand as he chuckled. He raised a drink to his lips before putting it down to waggle his fingers at her. Patricia gulped. 

“Oh shit he  _ is _ .” She replied through clenched teeth as she smiled back. “Oh fuck.” He really  _ was _ looking at her. As she’d poked her head around Wanda’s, their eyes had met again. He’d hidden his face with his hand and then peeked around it, still grinning cheekily at her. Patricia wasn’t sure whether to feel mortified or laugh out loud—obviously he’d seen her shennanigans and found them amusing. 

Patricia grabbed Wanda’s shot, ignoring the latter’s loud complaint and downed it. “Hey! Those are seven bucks a piece, Patty!” She shrilled, slapping at her hand. “You better venmo me tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, we’ll subtract last girl’s night from it,” Patricia quipped, enjoying the embarrassed flush that flooded her friend’s cheeks. Wanda held her hands up—a truce. Patricia accepted it with a giggle and a nod. “‘Merica, is he still…?” Patricia asked nervously. She’d turned to face the bar, so that he wouldn’t be in her field of vision. It helped that she was flanked on either side by friends who could scope out the scene for her, rather than her having to risk another embarrassing moment. 

“A hundred percent. He’s a pretty one, Patty. You’ve got good taste, I always said that.” 

“How would you know? I thought you said  _ I  _ was your type,” Patricia feigned offense at her friend, who sniggered, slapping her bare shoulder lightly. 

“I’ve still got eyes. I don’t have to like avocados to know how to make guacamole.” America waggled her eyebrows suggestively, and Patricia snorted. 

“Yeah, we all know how much you like to smash.” Wanda quipped, signaling to the bartender. America tried to look upset, but the three of them devolved into tipsy giggles before too long. When the bartender finally made his way over to them, he was already holding a drink. He motioned to Patricia, who eyed it suspiciously. 

“Dark and stormy. Courtesy of the gentleman in the red shirt.” Her stomach tightened nervously, though she accepted the drink with careful fingers. He pointed across the bar to the face Patricia already knew—the blond. 

He waved again, the cocky tilt of his chin sparking both attraction and irritation in Patricia’s mind.  _ Should I go over? Should I say anything?  _ Surely it would be rude to at least  _ not _ say “thank you”, wouldn’t it? Patty had never been a big one for clubs—it was much more Wanda’s scene than hers, but it was fun to dress up, to drink and let loose, to dance. But there was a social etiquette involved that she didn’t quite grasp a hundred percent. As she stood there waffling, her choice was made for her. The man stood, his massive bulk rising gracefully from the barstool as he made his way toward them. 

Wanda, ever gracious, practically spat out her drink. “Oh shit, your kill’s coming over.” 

“Stop calling him that, he’s not my  _ anything _ . He bought me a drink after I hid from him like a ten year old.” Patty’s cheeks were still burning, and she took a swallow of the drink he’d sent over. Damn it, it was good. He was tall, and had a foot on her easily, with wavy blond hair swept back into a loose knot at the base of his head. The red button up he wore was rolled up at the cuff, and tucked into his well tailored dress pants. Patricia realized she was eyeing him hungrily, and tore her gaze away, pretending to make conversation with her friends as he approached. 

“I see you got my drink.” His voice was deep, and somehow easy to hear over the thumping baseline behind them. 

“It’s all you, girl.” America whispered, squeezing her arm as she and Wanda slipped away. 

“Yeah, text us if you get into any trouble. Not good trouble. Bad trouble.” Wanda winked at her, grinning as Patricia sputtered. 

“I-um. Yeah. Thank you for that,” She replied lamely, cursing her awkwardness. “It’s good.” 

“I’m sorry if I weirded you out, or anything,” he replied, chuckling. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at her disarmingly. “I couldn’t help but notice a pretty girl.” 

In spite of herself, Patricia snorted. “I think there are a lot of pretty girls here. Did they get drinks too?” She asked, regretting the snarky words as soon as they left her lips. He laughed though, shrugging his massive shoulders. 

“I don’t think I could afford it, honestly,” He joked easily. His laughter was a pleasant baritone, vibrating in Patty’s chest as they spoke. He leaned over her, his bright blue eyes interestedly studying her face. “But something tells me I made a good call.” He winked at her, before draining the rest of his own glass. “I’m Thor.” He held out a massive hand for her to shake. Patricia found herself smiling. 

“Thor? I’m Patricia. Patty.” She corrected, shaking her head. “That’s some name.” She said, taking another swallow of her dark and stormy. 

“Tell me about it. When your dad’s name is Odin, you’ve only got but so many options for your kids.” He leaned back against the bar, and Patricia could feel his gaze on her like a physical weight.  _ God I’m terrible at small talk.  _

“I’m pretty sure my parents just drew names out of a hat if it makes you feel better,” Patty replied, patting his large hand in mock sympathy. “I was almost Phyllis.” She drained her glass, before setting it on the bartop. 

“Thank God you weren’t.” He said smoothly. “Can I get you another drink, Patricia?” 

Patty was already feeling the lightheaded dizziness setting in from her first three shots, and she knew she was something of a lightweight. She could practically hear Wanda’s sarcastic tone from here.  _ How many drinks does it take to get Patty hammered? Four. One for her, and three for you while you wait on her to finish the first one.  _

“I think I’m good for now,” Patty shook her head, though she tried to smile appreciatively at him. “I was actually thinking maybe I’d go dance.” Patricia was just making conversation—trying to cover up the nervousness she felt. She’d spent the majority of her time at school knuckling down and studying, much to the chagrin of her friends.  _ Maybe if I’d gone to more parties I wouldn’t be standing here grinning like an idiot, running out of things to say.  _

“Now  _ that’s _ an idea,” He moved closer, sliding a warm hand around her waist. Patricia started at the contact, a little gasp escaping her lips. “Mind if I join you?” His eyes glittered in the low light, and he tugged her a little closer, his large palm splaying almost the entire distance from her waist to the curve of her hip.  _ Oh fuck yes. _

“Sure! I mean yeah.” He followed her towards the dance floor, his hand loose around her own. Patricia caught a glimpse of America and Wanda pumping their fists and flashing her thumbs up as she passed. They were always urging her to loosen up, to live a little, so she was sure they were pleased to see her cutting loose a bit. 

Behind her, she could feel Thor’s body pressing closer to her own as they navigated the dance floor, looking for space. He was so tall, she had to tilt her head up to look him in the eyes as the music pulsed around them. He was liberal with his hands, though Patty found she didn’t  _ really  _ mind the feel of his hands roaming, and they didn’t stray  _ too _ far. 

As the music changed from electro-pop to hip hop, he spun her, pressing his front to her back and placing a searing kiss on the side of her throat. “I knew you would be a good dancer,” He murmured, his lips just brushing the shell of her ear as he spoke. Patricia couldn’t help the shudder that traveled down her spine at the heat of his words. 

He was touching her so eagerly, his hands hungry for any inch of exposed flesh he could get away with fondling. It was a heady feeling, having a man like  _ that _ so worked up over her. 

“I like to think so.” She wasn’t sure where she found the confidence—probably the alcohol sitting warmly in her belly—but Patricia ground the soft curve of her ass against him, and both felt and heard him groan softly, his hands tightening around her hips. His fingers flexed against her briefly, before he released her. 

“You can do  _ that _ any time you feel like it. No need to ask permission.” He laughed as he spoke, but Patricia could tell he wasn’t really joking. The sturdy, possessive grip on her body betrayed that. They danced together for a few more songs, the crowd ebbing and flowing around them like the tide. Before too long, Thor’s smooth lips were pressed against the curve of her ear again, his breath drawing goosebumps up to the surface of her skin. 

“I was thinking maybe you might come back to my place for a night cap. If you want.” His tone was flippant, but there was real interest in it. Before she could stop herself, Patricia found herself nodding. 

“Why not?” The words fell from her lips unchecked. “Let me just let my friends know… Come together, leave together and all that.” Patty reached into her purse, digging for her phone. As it turned out, she’d missed three texts from them in the group-chat already, one signifying that Wanda had already left with someone, and that America was chatting up some girl at the bar. 

_ P: Going home with Thor. Call the cops if I don’t come home :P _

_ W: Fuck 12! If you go missing we’re going Saw on that motherfucker. Love ya! _

“Got permission?” He drawled, and Patricia’s cheeks colored. 

“Just trying to be responsible.” She groused, and he held his hands up in apology. 

“No, I get it. I promise I’ll return you in one piece.” The cocky grin from earlier was back on his full lips, and he ran his tongue across his canines teasingly. “Or as many pieces as you’d like.” 

His mouth was on hers before they’d even made it all the way out of the club, pressing her against the stone exterior of the building as they waited for a cab. His hands were hot and insistent, skirting the hem of her dress as he palmed her thigh. They felt searing hot against her flesh in the frigid night air, and a throaty moan escaped Patricia’s lips unbidden. 

“Is this included in the nightcap or is this a specialty service?” She asked breathily, and he growled against her throat in response, before sucking the flesh at the juncture between her neck and shoulder into his mouth, worrying it with his teeth. 

“Definitely specialty.” 

“Uh, sir? The valet…. he um, he has your car.” The timid voice of one of the parking assistants made Patricia’s face burn as she abruptly remembered that they were in  _ public _ —though this didn’t seem to stop Thor, whose hands would not be deterred. He didn’t even turn from Patty, who could feel herself dying of mortification over and over again with each passing second. He stuck his hand out impatiently without looking. 

“Keys.” The valet dropped them into his hand and raced away, while Thor continued peppering kisses on Patricia’s bruised throat.  _ “Fuck. _ I don’t want to stop touching you,” He admitted hotly, the words a growl. Patricia’s head was swimming with heady pleasure. She wasn’t sure what she wanted, every thought was underscored by the hot need he’d lit inside of her. 

She was embarrassed, she wanted him to stop—and at the same moment, she didn’t. She was enjoying his attention, the raw need he was touching her with. Before Patricia had to make a decision, one was made for her, as Thor pulled away, his eyes cloudy and pupils dark. 

“Let’s go.” 

—

His apartment was nice— _ nice being the most extreme understatement I could possibly make. _ When he’d steered her towards his car, she’d caught the look of enjoyment that had crossed his face at the shock that colored her features—after all, it was her first time seeing a Jaguar in person. She was sure he’d gotten the same look when they’d exited the elevator into his penthouse suite.

Thor kicked his shoes off in the entryway, motioning for Patricia to follow after him. The foyer was narrow, but opened up into a massive living and dining room, with floor to ceiling windows that made Patty just a  _ little _ nervous, though the view was… amazing. 

She found herself padding across the hardwood floors to get a better look. The penthouse apartment overlooked Central Park, and the noise and activity on all the sidewalks melded together to create a storybook photo of lights against the inky dark sky. 

“Best view in the city,” Thor said softly, his arms closing about her from behind. She hadn’t noticed him sneaking up on her. Patricia nodded. 

“I’ve never seen it like this.” It was true—she’d grown up here, worked here, gone to school here—but she’d never seen the city from above before—not like this. With one hand, he produced a wine glass, filled just over halfway. Patricia took it gingerly, careful not to spill any. She had a feeling his clothes probably cost about half her rent, and she didn’t much feel like shelling out to replace them. 

“Then let’s make it better. You want to see the balcony?” He asked, giving her hip one last affectionate squeeze before moving away.  _ He’s so graceful for such a big guy, _ Patricia thought absently as she followed him across the living room. He opened the sliding door for her, stepping out of the way so she could step outside. It was chilly and windy this high up, but he had been right—it was even better outside. 

Patricia was grateful when he positioned his warm body behind hers, leaning over her. She wasn’t much into wine, but whatever he’d picked was fruity and sweet, easy to drink. 

“Wow.”  _ Good one, Patty. A real fucking wordsmith.  _ “It’s amazing. I’m kind of jealous you get to see this every day.” His apartment was easily four or five times the size of her own—and that was just the first floor. Patricia had spied a set of stairs leading up, and she had a feeling there was far more apartment than she’d seen. 

“It’s definitely one of the perks of living here,” He purred. “You want me to give you a tour?” His breath was hot on the back of her neck, and Patricia had a feeling the tour was going to end abruptly at the bedroom. The thought send another shiver down her back, but this time it wasn’t because of the cold. It was hard not to feel out of her element. An attractive, older guy had taken an interest in her—more than anyone she could think of in the past six months. 

“I’d love one.” 

He led her back inside, pointing at the kitchen and living room. Another door led to an office, and a bathroom. Thor made a beeline for the stairs, ushering Patricia up ahead of him. “I won’t look, I promise.” He replied cheekily when she smoothed the back of her skirt down. Thor, for his part didn’t seem bothered by the age difference, grinning up at her wolfishly when she peeked down at him. 

“That was a very good lie,” Patty replied snarkily, and he chuckled. “It didn’t sound rehearsed at all.” 

“I’m willing to wait for the main course. Don’t want to spoil my dinner.” 

Heat flooded the apex of her thighs, but to her credit, Patricia kept it together, her steps steady. There were three bedrooms up here, but he didn’t bother showing her two of them, leading her straight to his room. The floors were all hardwood, and he had an absolutely massive bed— _ an alaskan king, maybe? _ — set against the left wall. There was a desk, a small sofa with a coffee table in front of it. The wine glass Patricia was carrying was abruptly plucked from her fingers and placed on the dresser as they entered. 

Thor spun her around, a soft “oh” escaping her lips just before he crushed her body to his own, his mouth descending hungrily onto hers. His kiss was bruising and needy, and he greedily sucked down any noise she made, worrying her plump bottom lip with his teeth. It was a harsher kiss than the ones he’d given her before, and different from the fumbling of college boys that she’d reluctantly grown used to. He pulled away panting, a satisfied smirk gracing his features as he took in her swollen lips, and ruddy cheeks. 

“This is a good look for you.” His tone was smarmy as he ran his thumb across her bottom lip appreciatively. She opened her mouth, sucking the digit into her mouth. He groaned loudly, his head falling back briefly before he snapped back to attention. “Again.” Patty swallowed thickly, the movement forcing his thumb against the roof of her mouth as her tongue moved beneath it. She’d never been ordered around like that by anyone—and she didn’t want to like it, but she’d acquiesced almost instantly, and the answering groan made her knees shake just a little. 

“Good girl.” 

The husky, growled words sent heat rushing from the top of her head down to the tips of her fingers and toes, and she couldn’t help the moan of pleasure that escaped her at his praise. The self assured smirk on his handsome face grew wider at this, and he lifted her, his hands cupping her ass as he did so.

“Hey—” He didn’t bother with the propriety any more; openly fondling and squeezing her without preamble. Instinctively, Patty wrapped her thighs around his waist, locking her knees on either side of his torso. He hushed her with a stern look; her mouth snapped shut, the complaint dying in the face of his disapproval. She wanted more than anything for this to continue, for him to keep touching her. 

He walked backwards toward the bed, sitting heavily on the edge as his knees touched it. Thor’s hands were everywhere—in fact it seemed like he had more than two—up her dress, pulling at her thong, cupping her breasts through the fabric of her dress. It was maddening; like her body was an instrument and he was an expert, playing every note perfectly. He ran his thick finger up the seam of her panties, his eyes locked onto her face. 

“So wet, babes.” He clucked his tongue. “Wet and messy.” The tip of his finger found its way underneath the edge of her panties, stroking the clean shaven lips of her pussy. Patricia bit her lip and looked away, embarrassed. His gaze bored into her, exciting her and making her nervous all at the same time. She could still feel his eyes on her, even as her own fluttered shut and he slipped  _ just _ inside her. 

“Fuck!” Patricia’s voice sounded hoarse and needy even to her own ears, and it scared her. “I-I—”

“You want more, don’t you baby?” Gentle—but still commanding, a demand for an answer. His gaze turned expectant, and Patricia scrambled to answer. 

“Yes!” 

Patricia didn’t consider herself virginal—she’d had sex before, and she’d found pleasure at her own hands more than once—but nothing had  _ ever _ been like this before. She’d come to detest male bragging, and the cock sure attitudes of her peers, but this was...different. Thor wasn’t just bragging. 

He was making promises, and he intended to keep them. 

He sank a single finger inside, curling it. Patricia’s hips moved of their own accord, her legs tightening around his waist as she jerked in his arms, a sharp cry coming from her.  _ Oh fuck, fuck fuck— _ Thor’s other hand was kneading her ass as he slowly pumped his finger in and out of her clenching warmth. He grunted appreciatively. 

“Yes, baby. Oh  _ yes _ . Come on.” Patricia’s head fell forward against him, the stubble of his beard rubbing against her forehead. He was egging her on in that low baritone, making it hard to think and shit it felt so  _ good _ not to. His thumb found her clit, rubbing at it in slow, deliberate circles. The action sent shockwaves through her body, her pussy clenching rhythmically around his finger as Patricia’s hands found his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. 

She’d never been particularly vocal before—in fact, the last guy she’d slept with had accused her of being frigid—but it didn’t seem like Thor felt similarly. He teased every sound out of her with ease, adding a second finger to the first and groaning at her tightness. 

“You are fucking  _ tight _ , you know that?” His voice was low, menacing. He scissored his fingers inside her, and Patricia keened. “You are going to feel so goddamn perfect.” His words were strangely predatory and cold, though there was a smile on his face. Patricia pushed away the strange,  _ used _ feeling it left in her gut, focusing instead on the hot coil of pleasure tightening at her core. His fingers moved expertly through her slick folds, drawing garbled pleas and gibberish from her parted lips as she writhed in his lap. 

“Thor,” She whined, her hips still moving against his hand without her express permission. He pressed his lips against her forehead, and leaned away, his hand still moving steadily. “Please.” Patricia could feel him, hot and heavy pressed against her through his pants. 

“You can do better, I think.” His thumb pressed more insistently against her clit, and Patricia felt her body jerk, and her knees tremble, loosening around him. “You want to cum, baby? Tell me that’s what you want.” The sobbed request fell from her lips before Patty could stop them.

“I wanna cum!” She cried, pressing herself against him as she writhed. It felt like she was on fire, her nerve endings singing with pleasure. When he didn’t speed up, or give any indication that he’d heard her, Patricia began to struggle, whining. “Please, Thor!” He chuckled, as though her efforts were nothing more than amusing. He was so much bigger than her, and stronger too. It didn’t take much for him to hold her in place with a stern hand. 

“So demanding.” He crooked his fingers inside of her again, still flicking at her clit with his thumb. “I give the orders here, baby.” He stilled for a moment, and Patricia let out another breathy whine. “But I  _ do _ want to feel that tight pussy suck at my fingers before I sink my cock in it, so I think I’ll allow it.” Thor sounded like he was debating himself rather than addressing her, and for once she was glad for it, because Patricia couldn’t think of any words to answer him with. Her mind was blissfully blank, her hips moving steadily against his hand as he brought her closer and closer to sweet oblivion. 

Tension built steadily in her belly, pulling taut as he murmured obscenities against her hair. What he planned on doing with her, how hard he was going to fuck her, how perfect and tight and sweet she was going to be wrapped around him—and then Patricia saw white, her body convulsing as she came apart in his arms. Her mind was mush, and it took her a few moments to realize that the slurred, garbled words she was hearing were coming from her own mouth. 

“Thank you… Thank you… So good…” Patty was still trembling, her legs unable to support her as he placed her gently on the bed. Thor rose to his feet, tearing at his shirt with impatient hands, his eyes dark and hungry as they took in her shaking body. Her dress was all rucked up around her hips, her lacy black thong pushed to the side. As conscious thought returned to Patricia’s head, she began to feel embarrassed—ashamed, even. How must she look? Her soaked pussy on full display for a man she barely knew. 

Thor didn’t give her any more time to contemplate her current situation as he fell on her again, his impatient hands pulling at her dress as he leaned down to press his mouth to hers again. He trailed kisses down the sied of her jaw and returned to her throat as he grunted with frustration.

“Is there a zipper on this thing? Or how the fuck do we get this off, babes? I’m dying here.” 

“Hah. Yeah, one sec.” The zipper was hidden in the ruching of the dress, and Patricia sat up, forcing him back. She turned around, indicating with her finger where it was. It took him a few tries, but he got it down, unhooking the little eyelet at the top. She’d forgone a bra—it wasn’t like she had a whole lot of cleavage to speak of, she was barely a C cup. But Thor didn’t seem disappointed as he cupped her in his hands, rolling her nipples between his thick fingers as the dress slid down about her waist. 

“So much better. Let’s take this off.” He pushed the sleeves down her arms, and pulled the dress down her legs eagerly. Patricia thought she’d turn over onto her back, but Thor held her hips, stopping her. “No.”

“But I—”

“No. Stay like this. You’ve got a great ass, you know that?” He mused, tugging on the fabric of her thong with one finger as he caressed the curve of her hip with a gentle hand. “Fuck, you’re a cute little thing. How old are you, babes?” He asked, and Patricia caught the sound of a zipper over the rustling of the sheets underneath them. 

  
  


“T-Twenty four.”

_ My birthday was two months ago. _

He didn’t respond, but she felt the push of warm flesh against her ass, hot and hard.  _ Oh my fuck, he’s huge! _ A needy little whimper wormed its way out of her throat, and Patricia heard him chuckle as he parted her with two fingers. He spread her wetness through her folds with a careful hand, groaning as the head of him throbbed against her. 

Thor leaned down, his hair brushing against her back as he went.  _ It must have come loose from his bun _ , she thought fleetingly. 

“Stay still.”

He’d barely imparted the command before she felt the length of his cock slide against her, and Patricia fought the urge to jerk away in surprise. He pressed against her opening, and she felt herself stretching to accommodate him. A high pitched whine escaped her as her head fell forward onto the mattress. Thor was unperturbed and continued pressing inside her, murmured curses falling from his lips. 

_ “So fucking tight, fuck, fuck  _ **_fuck_ ** _ —” _

Patricia had never felt this full. Not with people, not with toys, her own fingers; nothing compared to this. She was glad the weight of his body was pressing her into the bed, his hands the only thing keeping her hips up, because her eyes were rolled up into the back of her head and her mouth was wide open. 

There was so much of him, and when she finally felt his hips against her own, Patricia was panting loudly, her pussy clenching wildly around him. Then his hand was in her hair pulling her up and against his body, the other circling her waist to keep her up. It felt like an even tighter fit in this position, and the fullness at the apex of her thighs bordered on discomfort. Patricia whined, shifting against him. Thor drew out slowly, before snapping his hips against her, forcing his cock back inside. 

The angle forced her to stare down the line of her own body, watching as his girth disappeared into her pussy over and over. It felt so good, and her hips moved on their own, falling in line with the pace he’d already set. The hand at her waist traveled up to her breasts, squeezing them roughly as he pulled one of her nipples taut. 

“Ah! Stop!” Patricia whined, frowning up at him. He licked his lips. 

“But when I do this—” He tugged again, “you squeeze me so. Fucking. Tight.” He punctuated each word with a hard snap of his hips. It hurt, but… It still felt good, and when he soothed it with gentle strokes after, she felt herself tighten again just the same. His cock slipped out of her, and Patty whined at its absence, craning her neck to see his face. “Turn over, Patricia.” 

Patricia turned over onto her back, her cheeks hot as their eyes met. His hair was loose and wild around his face, which was ruddy and glistened with sweat. He growled at her, grabbing her thigh with one large hand and pushed it up. He fisted his cock in one hand, pumping it a few times before he pushed into her again, groaning. 

“You are a fucking gem,” He said, his gaze both lusty and appreciative as he appraised her briefly before sinking in once more. His head lolled back and Patricia mewled. 

She’d never been able to orgasm more than one time in a row, and almost never with any of the other partners she’d had. But now, Patricia felt that coil tightening again, white hot pleasure shooting up her spine. Thor’s huge hands were bruisingly tight around her hips, pulling her hard against him as he moved above her. 

“I want you to cum on this cock, baby.” His voice was wild and guttural. “Now.” She wasn’t sure if it was the strength of his command, or the feel of his cock pushing against that rough patch inside her, but her eyes rolled back and Patricia’s body shook. Colors exploded behind her closed eyelids, and her hands scrabbled for purchase against his arms, shoulders, torso as she came  _ hard _ around him. 

Thor’s hips met hers roughly as he fucked her straight through it, her nails digging into his skin. He groaned, holding her in place as heat flooded her insides, his forehead dropping to hers as he panted. Patty could still feel him throbbing. She was panting too, her hair a mess around her face as his sweaty weight pressed her into the sheets. 

After a moment, he heaved a huge sigh, and gingerly removed his still semi-hard cock from her pulsing center, and laid down beside her on the bed. Patty wasn’t sure what to do, but he solved that problem for her by tugging her body against his own. 

“You can stay the night if you want.” 


	2. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patty’s good night is shattered by Thor’s callous attitude, and faces the consequences for her decisions—or lacktherof.

The bed was empty when she woke. Patricia was alone in the sea of sheets, and the pillows around her were long cold. Daylight streamed in through the massive windows, and a gust of warm air from the heating vent above the bed drew her eyes up to the mirrored ceiling. She wasn’t sure whether she should be feeling so much embarassment post-sex, but she felt it anyway, coiling in her gut.  _ Oh god. Was he looking at that while we…? _

She swallowed thickly, before gingerly stepping out of bed. Her body was sore, like she’d worked out. Though, with the way Thor had contorted her, it wasn’t a far off assumption. Her clothes were still littered all over the floor, and she picked them all up, sliding back into her dress. She shoved her still embarrassingly damp panties into her purse before she padded over to the door.  _ Is he even home? _

The hallway was empty, and when she made her way downstairs, she was relieved to see Thor dressed, and sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. He didn’t notice her at first, typing away on a laptop before picking up his phone. His hair was neat and tidy again, and it looked like he’d trimmed his beard too. Patricia’s neat and uniform curls were now back to their natural state, her kinky hair loose and coily around her shoulders. She’d tried to wet it in the bathroom, trying to force it to behave, but she’d been unsuccessful. 

She cleared her throat, and he looked up, his expression cold, uninterested. “Oh.” The weird, used feeling she’d had the night before returned in force as he regarded her. Patricia tried to smile winningly, despite the discomfort swirling in her belly. 

“Morning!”

“Hey.” He smiled back, though it was small. Placating. “Sorry, I got caught up in some work things. You’re welcome to raid the fridge if you want.” His tone was casual, but Patty couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t welcome anymore. 

“It’s okay, thanks. I’m going to head out, I think.” She replied awkwardly, biting her lip. A moment of silence passed between them, and as she turned to head for the door, he caught her by the elbow, passing something into her hand. 

“It was fun.” He replied, kissing her forehead lightly. “If you want, you can leave your number, we’ll do this again sometime.” It was strangely transactional, and Patricia wasn’t really sure how to respond. Something crinkled in her hand, and she looked down, her fingers opening to reveal— _ Money.  _

_ He paid me. _

There were a couple of hundreds there— _ three— _ and a fifty. He’d paid her to sleep with him. Nausea churned in Patty’s stomach. She wasn’t… she hadn’t… Before she knew what she was doing, Patricia was wadding the money up in her fist, and throwing it at him, the bills fluttering in his surprised face. 

“What the  _ fuck _ ?” She yelled, pointing at the money, now on the ground. 

He raised a manicured eyebrow at her behavior. “You should be flattered.”

“Of course you’d think that. Oh my god. How did I  _ not _ see what an absolute asshole you were last night?” She murmured, the spell broken. He was still handsome, still grinning at her, but instead of being disarming, disgust bloomed instead. 

“You weren’t complaining.” He was still speaking casually, and Patricia stared at him, wide eyed. She wasn’t sure how he  _ couldn’t _ see his own offense, but he didn’t. Embarrassment at his blase statement flooded her features. It was true—his domineering, demanding, callous attitude had been a turn on  _ then _ . But coupled with  _ this _ , it left a sour, shitty feeling that eclipsed the lingering euphoria from the night before. 

“Oh  _ fuck you.” _ Patricia held back the hot, ashamed tears that welled up in her eyes as she stomped toward the door, grabbing her heels on the way out. She didn’t let them fall until she was in the elevator on her way down to street level to meet the cab she’d called. Her makeup was already ruined, and as she sniffled, wiping at it, the backs of her hands came away black and red. 

He’d really tried to pay her. 

Anger reared it’s head again, though it was quickly extinguished by shame. Of course he’d treated her like crap—it hadn’t taken much to get her home with him. What, a few drinks? A dance? What the hell had she been  _ thinking _ ? Patricia pressed the heels of her palms into her closed eyelids, though it was ineffective at stopping the tears from escaping anyway. 

Her phone buzzed. 

_ W: how was it? 👀 _

_ A: yeah girl, dish, i’m trying to get the tea! _

A small sob worked its way out of her chest. She typed out three separate messages, before deleting each one. When the mid-morning traffic parted enough for her to get back to their Brooklyn apartment, Wanda and America were in a tizzy. They set on her like yapping dogs as soon as Patty walked in. 

“You look tired.” Wanda replied as she threw herself down on the couch. “No sleep?” A sly smile spread across her face. America elbowed her.

“God, Wanda. Let her breathe.” 

Patricia looked up at her roommate gratefully, and took a deep breath before bursting into tears. The story found its way out around her sobs, America rubbing her back and Wanda promising somehow to destroy him. 

Like the good friends they were, they ran her a bath; and Wanda even parted with one of her prized bath bombs. Patty was glad for it, and she soaked in the water until it went cold, still sniffling. 

Over chinese takeout, they derided him. 

“What a dickhead. I can’t believe he slipped you money like that.” America replied, her mouth full of lo mein. “My asshole radar wasn’t pinging last night.” 

Patricia rubbed her puffy eyes. “What about you guys? I hope you had better luck than me.” She muttered, pushing her food around on her plate. She didn’t want to talk about his royal assholeness anymore at present. 

“America brought home this really hot redhead with huge tits,” Wanda supplied, pointing at the offending roommate with her chopsticks. Patricia snickered. 

“You just described yourself. Something you guys want to tell me?” They both laughed. It felt good to get back to her routine, and forget about the horrible turn her fun night had taken the very next morning. 

“Nah. She was like...way hotter than Wanda.” 

Wanda shrieked at this, and slapped at America’s leg. “How dare you!”

_ The sooner I forget about that asshole the better.  _

  
  


~

A few weeks later found Patricia assisting America as she packed up her room. Wanda groused that she had way too much stuff, but she helped too, a sad look on her face as she helped label boxes and sort clothes. She’d taken the Philly job, and would be moving down there in just a few weeks, leaving Wanda and Patty alone in the apartment. 

“You already find a place down there?” Wanda asked, her voice strained as she lifted a box of books to stack it on top of another one. “I hear the rent is pretty good, compared to here.” 

America nodded, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead as she leaned down to scribble a label in sharpie onto another box. “Yeah, my  _ tio _ is down there. My cousin is moving out, so we figured we’d just get a place together.” 

“I can’t believe they’re paying for your relocation costs!” Patricia said, leaning against the doorframe. She was sat in the floor against the wall, helping America go through all of her stuff. Currently, she was sorting CD’s into “keep” and “goodwill” piles. “Oh my God, don’t tell me you actually listen to  _ Sounds of Nature _ .” 

America laughed. “That was from that meditation class I took for my psych credit. Definitely a goodwill donation.” 

Patty placed it on the pile and stood, stretching. She headed to the kitchen and grabbed a glass before sticking it under the faucet, catching some cold water. She took a deep breath before her stomach rolled suddenly, and she clapped a hand to her mouth and nose. Wanda had gotten some new incense recently, and even though Patty had asked her to burn it with the door closed, it still leaked out into the apartment. 

Even that trace of it was enough to turn her stomach, and send her running to the toilet, retching. As she heaved over the bowl, she heard footsteps, and then a gentle hand on her back. 

“You okay, Patty?” It was Wanda. 

Patricia wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, sniffling. “Ugh. Yeah. Incense caught me off guard.” She rested her head on the seat before turning to look at her friend. Wanda frowned. 

“I’m gonna throw it out, every time I burn it you get sick.” She replied apologetically, before a calculating look crossed her face. “You’ve been sick a lot lately.” She said slowly, sitting down on the edge of the tub. Patricia rolled her eyes. It was true that she’d felt a little tired lately, and her stomach had been sensitive, but it was nothing to worry about. As reckless as Wanda was, she acted like the mom of the apartment, and Patty knew she was about to get an earful. 

“You know I’ve just been tired,” Patricia snapped. 

“Yeah, and irritable.”

“Maybe my period’s coming, I dunno. What is this, the inquisition?” 

“I know you don’t want to talk about what happened with that asshole from the club, but…. Did you guys, you know. Condom? Or anything?”

“Of course we—” Patricia stopped herself.  _ Oh shit.  _ They  _ hadn’t _ . He’d been so pushy, so cock-sure. Her cheeks colored at the phrase. “Oh my god. But I’m not… I couldn’t be. You’re just worrying for nothing.” Patricia was talking a mile a minute. She leaned away from the toilet, and settled back against the wall, shaking her head. “I’m not pregnant Wanda.” 

Wanda nodded quickly. “Of course. Sorry. I just. You know, I worry.” Silence hung between them, and Patty could tell the issue wasn’t quite dead, but that Wanda was willing to drop it for her sake. It wasn’t possible. Of course, Patricia had had the same general sex ed as all the other kids in her school.  _ Use protection. Be safe. It just takes one time. _ Normally she was fairly staunch about those things, she wasn’t sure how Thor had managed to slip under her radar. She frowned. Another reason to hate him. 

Patricia played with a lock of hair that had escaped her loose, high bun before sighing. “Maybe I’ll go to planned parenthood. Just in case.” 

—

“Miss Hodgins?” The doctor couldn’t have been much older than her, and she seemed pleasant enough. She had a couple of tattoos on the exposed skin of her arms, and her glasses were thin rimmed and trendy. She poked her head around the side of the door after knocking. “Can I come in?”

Patty’s stomach knotted. Wanda and America were in the waiting room for support, but they hadn’t been allowed back into the testing area. She’d gotten the full range of tests, everything she could think of. The fact that the doctor was coming to speak with her made her stomach drop.  _ Oh God. Oh fuck.  _

“Yeah. Yes, of course.” She stammered, fidgeting in the uncomfortable seat next to the exam table. The doctor entered and closed the door behind herself. 

“I’m Doctor Alison Rogers. Nice to meet you Patricia.” She held out her hand before taking a seat on the other side of the small table. “Now, I just wanted to go ahead and ease your fears, you look pretty nervous. All your results are normal.” A huge sigh of relief escaped her.  _ I knew I was just under the weather. _

“Oh thank God.” 

“But we did run just one more test, because of your symptoms.” The ball of nervousness returned to her gut. “You were talking about fatigue and nausea, and, well those are some key symptoms for pregnancy. You’re about three weeks along.” 

The blood drained from Patricia’s face, and she felt dizzy for a moment.  _ Good thing I’m sitting down. _ A low ringing was echoing in her ears, and she found it hard to focus on anything the doctor was saying, like she was listening under water. 

“I’m three weeks.” She repeated, her voice monotone.

The doctor’s expression was sympathetic. “We can talk about options, if you’d like. I know that’s a big bomb I just dropped on you, so if you’d like some time to process, I can leave.” Patty nodded, staring off into the corner. As the door closed, hot tears began making their way down her face, and she rested her head on the table as she sobbed. 

_ Three weeks pregnant. _

It was his—it had to be. She hadn’t been with anyone else since that night; she’d been far too busy thinking of her future. A future that was now more turbulent and uncertain than ever. 

_ We can talk about options. _ The doctor’s voice rang in her ears, and suddenly Patty felt even more sick. What was the right thing to do? What would her parents say? How would she weather their disappointment? The slow sobs turned into breathless cries, and Patricia curled in on herself there at the doctor’s office.

_ Three weeks.  _

—

The first month was the worst. It still didn’t feel real as she’d packed up her room too, only two weeks after America had left. She promised to come back and visit as soon as she was able, and made Patricia promise that she wouldn’t “pop out the kid” until auntie America was in town. 

Wanda had been a big help too, doing most of the sorting and boxing while Patricia had stared listlessly off into space. She’d even driven the rental van out to Patty’s parent’s place in Long Island, and helped her father unload it all back into her old room. 

After the initial depression cleared, suddenly Patty had found herself two months pregnant, the curve of her belly  _ just _ beginning to show. Her mother had gone with her to most of her ultrasounds, marveling at how fast the baby was growing. 

Four months found her finally experiencing pregnancy cravings, culminating in Wanda driving her to Mc Donalds at midnight during a movie marathon. To her credit, she’d only complained a little, and when Patricia had let her rest her head on her belly in the parking lot, the complaints had stopped entirely. 

Months seven and eight brought the mood swings, and she spent her time alternatively crying, and screaming at her parents and any of her friends who would put up with her, and then bursting into tears afterward when she apologized. Meanwhile, her father converted her brother’s old room into a nursery, and Wanda helped her start shopping for baby clothes. 

And when Amelia  _ finally _ came, Patricia was glad she hadn’t talked about “options” with the doctor. Even when she opened her eyes, and regarded her mother with her father’s same bright, blue gaze. 

—

“Are you sure? I mean you don’t have to go. No one is rushing you out, you know that.” Her mother’s concerned voice only made Patricia’s resolve stronger. “You could even just find a place in the area. You don’t have to move back to the city.” 

Patty was briefly tempted to give in—it  _ would _ be easier with her parents close by, of course. Her mother was  _ always _ willing to watch Amelia, who was currently giggle-screaming as she chased butterflies in the backyard. 

“I already put a deposit on a two bedroom.” She said decisively, shaking her head. “I thought it was time Melly had her own room.” 

“She could have her own room here! You know we can clear out some more of the stuff in Kaleb’s room—” She leaned over to place her hand on her mother’s. The lawn chair creaked underneath her as she shifted, and she sighed. 

“Mom.”

“I know, I know. You’re ready to go and all that. I’m going to miss that kid.” She said, jerking her chin towards Amelia. Her braids bounced wildly as she ran though the grass, her little fists stained green as she lifted the torn blades above her head in victory. 

“Grass!” She yelled, jumping up excitedly as she waved her prize.

“It sure is,” Patricia replied distractedly. “Mom.” She called her mother’s attention back to her. “Everything’s going to be fine. I’m going to be fine. Melly’s going to be fine. I already have a job, and she’s enrolled in daycare. I’ve got this.” 

Most of her things were already packed up, and waiting in the trunk of the secondhand subaru she’d bought the year before. It was true that the job she’d managed to snag wasn’t glamorous, but it  _ was _ almost in her field. She was working as a receptionist at an art gallery, and they’d looked favorably on her art history degree, though she’d never worked. a job that required her to use it. 

“Oh my  _ God _ , Melly-belly look at you!” Wanda’s voice carried across the yard, and Amelia shrieked in response. 

“Auntie Wanda!” She took off across the yard, crashing into Wanda’s legs just as she closed the gate behind her. “Look, look, mommy braid my hair!” She said excitedly, pointing one green stained finger at her head. “I sit still!” 

“Wow, mommy is getting so much better at braiding! When we were younger, she couldn’t braid for sh—for nothing.” She corrected herself quickly, the curse almost slipping out. Patricia laughed. 

“Hey Wanda. I got all the stuff ready.” She rose from her seat to hug her friend. “You look great.” 

It was true—she’d cut her hair into a short, asymmetrical bob, and her makeup was natural, but still becoming. “You’re the one who looks great. Look at those things,” She gestured to Patty’s breasts, but she slapped her friend’s hand away, rolling her eyes. 

“Please. Lets go get the car loaded up.” Wanda had volunteered the back seat of her car, and what little room she could clear in her trunk to assist in the move. It didn’t take long to load up, and after a couple of hours and a tearful goodbye, they were on their way back into the city. It wasn’t a long ride, but Amelia was cranky by the time they arrived at the apartment. It was a converted brownstone, and she’d spent the last two weeks moving the larger furniture in with Wanda. 

“Go find your room, Melly-belly,” Patricia instructed, lugging as many bags as she could carry up the stairs. Amelia giggled and took off, her little bare feet slapping against the hardwood floors. Patricia and Wanda continued moving boxes into the house, placing them in the rooms they belonged in until both cars were empty. Amelia was already tearing into the boxes in her room, looking for her favorite books at toys. It wasn’t the largest of apartments, but it was theirs, Patricia thought to herself, surveying their new space. 

“Think you’ve got enough shit?” Wanda groused, leaning against the doorframe. “That’s the last of it, I think.” 

“Nope. We still need a couch.” 

Wanda laughed. “You got any booze yet, or do I need to make a run?” She asked, seating herself at the round kitchen table. There was nothing in the cabinets, but from one of the boxes labeled “Kitchen”, Patty produced a bottle of red wine. The glass was a little cloudy and dusty—she couldn’t really remember the last time she’d had a drink at home—but the bottle was unopened, and the wine was still good. 

“I present to you, a bottle of wine from—” Patricia squinted at the label. “2017. Oh wow. We bought this after I had Amelia, I think. It was supposed to be my first drink after pregnancy.” She laughed at the memory. 

Wanda grinned. “But your dad gave you rum instead.” She rose from the table, and grabbed one of the plastic cups Patty had bought to ease the stress of the move. “What are you waiting for? Crack that sucker open.” 

Patricia twisted off the top, and poked her head out of the kitchen as she did so, looking down the hall towards Amelia’s room. “Mel! You okay?” There was no answer, only the sound of quick little feet running towards her. 

“I play ponies, mommy.” She said seriously, holding up the plastic horse as an explanation. There was a little dirt on her chubby, mocha colored cheek, and the ends of her braids—which Patricia had labored so hard over—were already beginning to fray. She sighed, before leaning down to plant a kiss on her daughter’s forehead. 

“I see that, my love. Though how you managed to get so dirty, I have no idea.” Amelia took back off, scampering through the apartment, her laughter echoing after her as Patricia moved back to the table and poured the wine. 

“Where’s your new job again?” Wanda asked, taking a sip. 

“Midtown,” Patricia replied, frowning. “God, you know I  _ hate _ midtown, but they’re offering me 18 an hour to start, and health and dental, so…. I guess I’m taking the four in to work every day.” Patricia had  _ always _ hated Midtown; snobby businessmen and even snobbier people, overpriced cafes with  _ no fucking food _ in them, boutiques no normal person could afford to shop in. She felt herself get irritated just thinking about it, but she swallowed it.  _ Orange West _ was one of the hottest galleries in the city, and they were offering her fantastic benefits, so she put aside her disdain for the neighborhood. 

“Well, at least you’re close to the right train over here.” Patty hadn’t been back in Manhattan since that night, and though she knew it was ridiculous—there were millions of people in the city, it was highly unlikely that she would run into him randomly—she was still nervous. Wanda could see it on her face, and put a concerned hand on her shoulder. “Have you heard from… you know,  _ him _ ?” 

Patricia felt lead settle in her stomach. In truth, she’d never said a word. She didn’t know his number, his last name, nothing. If she searched hard enough, she knew she could have found him, but Patricia doubted that he was eager to be a father.  _ Certainly got rid of  _ **_me_ ** _ fast enough. _ She’d just told everyone he wasn’t interested, and shut down each and every inquiry any of her family or friends had made. 

“No.” She replied, and it came out harsher than she’d meant it to. “No. He never… You know, he’s not dad material.” She finished lamely, shrugging. She’d been young, fresh out of college— _ literally _ —and eager to please. He’d been an older man, looking for young skirt, and willing to play any part he needed to in order to get it. The thought used to make her angry, but now it just made her feel… nothing. 

“Asshole.” Wanda spat, draining her glass. She stood, stretching. “Okay, girl. I’m gonna head home. You want me to come by tomorrow? I’ll bring the alcohol,” She wheedled, poking Patricia with her elbow. 

“Nah, I’m good. I think we’re gonna do bath and bed. I start tomorrow anyway.” 

“See you later. Call if you need anything.” 

Finding Amelia was easy—Patricia had come to learn one thing about her daughter, and it was that she could fit herself into the strangest places. She was hidden under her bed, talking in different voices as she switched between characters. Patricia lifted the edge of her blanket, peeking underneath. Amelia peeked up at her, her smile gaptoothed. 

“You having a good time under here?” She asked, reaching out to stroke her daughter’s head. “Looks kinda dusty.” 

“I playing, mommy,” Amelia replied, gesturing at her horses as if to say “duh”. Patricia laughed. 

“I see. Well, it’s bathtime, Melly-belly. Do you like your new bed?” She asked as she pulled her out from under the bed, pulling dust bunnies from her hair. “Mommy and auntie Wanda set it up special for you.” 

“I like it!” 

It had been a splurge, sure, but when Patty had seen the four poster bed in that magazine, she’d sprung for it. Sure, it was a little big for Amelia now, but she was starting to sleep on her own more and more, and Patricia wanted her to feel comfortable in her own space. Especially since Patty was going back to work for the first time in the three years since she’d had Amelia. In truth, she was nervous. With her parents help, she’d only had to work part time, and was free to spend as much time as she could with Amelia. But Patricia was nothing if not independent, 

and she’d quickly grown tired of explaining and defending her purchases, her decisions. Moving out was the best and clearest way forward, even _ if _ it meant sacrificing a little. 

“Ready? Let mommy know if it’s too hot.” 

—

Loki had  _ excellent _ memory. He had uncanny recollection for faces, and though it took him a few minutes—an hour really, because the memory the face belonged to was hazy at best, and didn’t return to him until he was already halfway home from the office. 

_ That woman… I know her.  _ He wasn’t sure where he’d seen her, but as she shifted from one foot to the other, her curly hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d seen her somewhere before. He’d caught sight of her as he headed for the garage, checking out at the front desk. There was a little girl running around at her heels, and occasionally the woman would glance down to check that she was still close by. There was a daycare on one of the lower levels of the building—it appeared she was picking up her daughter.

“I’d like to pay for another month in advance please.” She said, shouldering her duffel bag and taking a sip of water from her bottle. 

“No problem. Name?” Asked the man at the front, and she stood on her tip-toes, trying to see over the desk to make sure he got it right. 

“Patricia Hodgins.” 

_ Patricia? I don’t know a Patricia. _

“Mommy, I get candy today!” She looked down, smiling as she patted the girl’s head. 

“Oh yeah? No wonder you’re bouncing off the walls, Mels.” She handed over her credit card to the receptionist. She didn’t notice him as he lingered close by, tapping randomly on his phone screen.

Loki didn’t normally spare too much thought for these sorts of things. He met lots of people, it came part and parcel with his work. He didn’t have endless memory available for every single one of them, it wasn’t surprising that he’d forgotten someone. The feeling had refused to leave him as he’d headed down to the garage and unlocked his car. 

“Patricia Hodgins.” He repeated quietly, his brow furrowed.

It wasn’t until he’d hit traffic on the FDR, his car stalled in the evening rush that it came flooding back to him. What were the odds of running into one of the many notches on his older brother’s belt? He’d seen them leaving together, and later, as Thor had described his conquest in unrelenting detail, he’d described her to a “t”. 

_ L: Ran into someone on my way out of the building tonight.  _

_ T: ? _

_ T: Hope it wasn’t Dad. I’m trying to think of that geezer as little as possible.  _

Loki chuckled. 

_ L: Three guesses. _

_ T: Was it Barton? He’s been trying to get me to sign some shit.  _

_ L: Strike one. _

_ T: Rogers? _

_ L: Strike two. _

_ T: Just tell me, dammit. I don’t have patience for this.  _

_ L: One of your old flames. Patricia. She was picking up her kid from the daycare. 👀 _

Minutes ticked by, and there was no response from his brother. He’d thought he might find it amusing—Loki often ribbed him about his indiscretions. But strangely, no reply. Nothing. He tossed the phone onto the seat, shrugging. He would see him tomorrow at the board meeting—where their father would also be present. Loki swallowed thickly. As much as he hated to admit it, the old man still intimidated him. 

When he got home, there was a response from Thor. Just one sentence, with no further explanation offered. 

_ T: What did the kid look like? _

  
  



	3. Lets Make a Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patty and Thor reach an unusual agreement.

_L: Curly hair. I don’t know, I didn’t really look at her._

Thor growled, resisting the urge to throw his phone against the wall. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” The voice he’d found so attractive now grated on his nerves, and he swatted Idunn’s hands away, ignoring her. 

_And I was in such a good mood._

He wasn’t sure why Loki’s text had shaken him so much. So what, he’d seen some girl he fucked. So what? _But the kid…_ Mention of the kid had made him nervous. He wasn’t a genius, and he wasn’t amazing at math, but… a daycare aged girl _would_ be about the right age… Idunn hmphed behind him, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw her cross her arms. “I’m just trying to help.” She snapped, sweeping a curtain of her honey blonde curls behind her pale shoulder. 

“And how would you help?” Thor asked, quirking a brow at her. That was the thing about these women his father insisted on parading in and out of his life. They had pedigree, certainly. But no substance. Idunn’s eyes glittered as she regarded him in the low light, and she stretched, almost lazily, though he knew the movement was cleverly calculated. The lingerie he’d been so excited to tear into now no longer interested him, and as she drew her fingers across her barely concealed nipples, Thor felt himself shrink. “Why don’t you go home, Idunn? I’ll call you a cab.” 

He’d had her more than enough times that weekend anyway. 

She didn’t protest, and left silently, likely not desiring any conflict that might ruin her chances at landing him. Or, at the very least, landing his ring on her finger. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing frustratedly. He remembered Patricia, of course—mainly because of the explosive argument they’d had on her way out. She hadn’t left her number, of course—a pity, because he certainly would have called at least twice more—and he’d thought of her no more.

Until now. 

Odin tended to turn a blind eye to most of the things Thor did, but he knew that having an illegitimate kid running around might bring an end to that. His brow furrowed as he thought, and Thor moved to his alcohol cabinet to remove a bottle of scotch, pouring himself a glass. _What’s her game?_

In all likelihood, he was worrying over nothing. Wouldn’t she have contacted him if the kid was his? Have said something? Anything? He went around in circles until far into the night, what ifs turning over and over in his mind. 

He would wait for her after he got off of work. Loki had texted him around six, so it was likely that she would be there between four and five—he would just wait around the lobby. 

Just to make sure. 

—

All day, Thor was irritable. He wasn’t normally particularly pleasant in the office—in fact, most employees knew about his temper, and rightfully steered clear of him on a good day. He barreled through the hallways, smoke practically rolling out of his ears. In fact, when Loki entered his office, Thor snapped to attention, a scowl on his face. 

“What?” He rubbed his temples. “What do you want?”

“Well don’t be _too_ friendly,” Loki drawled, perching himself on the edge of his brother’s desk. “What’s got your panties in a knot today? Expense reports?”

Thor scowled deeper. “Nothing.” Though he doubted that Loki would make gossip of his situation, he knew his family better than anyone. Perhaps Loki wouldn’t betray his confidence to his father, but there were ears everywhere in the office, and the last thing he needed was for Tyr—or God fucking forbid _Balder_ to hear about this, and his father would have his hide. “Bad day.” 

“Really? Because the partnership deal with Stark Industries is looking great. And you’re the one heading that off. Father’s going to shit gold bricks.” Though he didn’t doubt Loki’s trustworthiness, he knew information gathering when he heard it. 

“Just more paperwork. More meetings.” He said evasively. He knew he wasn’t fooling his clever brother, but it seemed that explanation was enough, because he shrugged. “And the building permits have been held up again.” All of which was true, of course. 

“I’ll make a few calls to the city, see if we can’t get those pushed through. Are you going to be at the dinner tonight?”

_Fuck._

He’d forgotten about the dinner—one of the more useless social niceties he had little patience for. It would be starting almost immediately after work, but if he was going to wait to see if Patricia showed up…

“No. Cover for me?” He asked, and Loki nodded. He avoided them as often as possible—going to just enough of his family’s social events to keep his father happy with him. When the old man finally croaked, it would be worth it, though. All he had to do was keep it up. After all, how much longer could he live? 

By the time four rolled around, Thor had practically paced a trail into the carpet. He headed down in the elevator, mulling over his situation. If the kid was his, he stood to lose everything. His career, his future, his life. Everything could go up in fucking flames. He’d been eager that night, he remembered as much. And the sex had been good, from what he could recall. But what he couldn’t remember was a condom. He scrubbed a hand down his face. 

_She’s probably not mine._

The lobby was busy with activity; in a building that large, there were multiple offices and businesses open at the same time. The ground floor was the one that housed the daycare, and it was by that entrance that Thor waited. He tried peeking inside nonchalantly, but there weren’t any kids that stuck out to him, not enough to recognize as his own, anyway. 

At the thirty minute mark, he began to grow restless. Loki had said he’d seen her picking her kid up here, hadn’t he? Thor scrolled back through his text messages, trying to confirm it. 

  
  


“Hi, Patricia here to pick up Amelia, please.” There was a woman at the front desk, she’d obviously gotten there while he was distracted. Her kinky hair was loose around her shoulders, and she wore a white blouse, tucked into a gray pencil skirt. Thor edged closer to the desk, his eyes narrowed. 

“No problem Miss Hodgins, we’ll go get her for you.” The receptionist moved away from the desk, leaving them alone in the entrance. He couldn’t quite see her face, but he didn’t need to to know it was her. 

“Patricia.” He saw her back go rigid as she turned slowly, her expression first fearful, and then unreadable. She looked just like he remembered; a huge mass of thick, kinky hair, her round face and plump, heart shaped mouth. She’d filled out—motherhood had been particularly kind to her, he noted, his gaze resting appreciatively on her breasts, and the swell of her hips.

“You...What?” She sputtered, her brows furrowing in confusion. “How did you…”

“I work in the building.” He replied smoothly, enjoying seeing her off balance. It was just as pleasurable now as it had been before, putting her off kilter. She looked away, muttering a curse. 

“Of fucking _course_ you do.” Her hackles were up, it didn’t take an expert to see that. Before she could spit more vitriol at him, however, they were interrupted. 

“Mommy who that?” The inquisitive little voice made him look down, and Thor felt his mouth drop open slightly. She was even tinier than her mother, but shared her same rounded chin and high cheekbones. Her skin was lighter, a coffee color, and her mother’s same unruly hair sprouted from her head as well. What was most shocking, however, were the curious, bright blue eyes she was staring at him with, and his own nose, set on her face. Patricia bent to pick her up, resting her daughter on her hip as she regarded him coldly. 

“No one important.” Thor could only stare as she made her way towards the exit, his heart hammering in his chest. 

_That’s my daughter._

Movement returned to his legs as she reached the door, pushing against it to open it, and Thor raced after her, the shock giving way to anger. He grabbed her, uncaring that he was beginning to make a scene.

“Let go of me!”

“Is she mine?” He asked, ignoring her request. People around them were slowing down to watch, and Patricia seemed acutely aware of this, eyeing them nervously. The little girl in the crook of her other arm made a nervous noise, her wide eyes suspicious. “I need to know, Patricia.” She yanked her arm out of his grip, and he narrowed his eyes, though he didn’t reprimand her. _Yet._

“Can we talk about this somewhere that is _not_ the lobby of the daycare I bring _my_ daughter?” She emphasized her claim as she clutched the girl tighter. 

“We can talk in my office.”

She snorted. “Right, yeah. I’m going to take my toddler to an unknown location with a practical stranger. Think again.” 

Thor clenched his fists in frustration. “Fine. There’s a cafe a couple of blocks over. Can we talk there?” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, pursing her lips. “Fine. Ten minutes.” 

Thor got there first, and waited at a table, nervously tapping his foot against the ground. _She looks like me._ That was the most shocking thing of all, seeing his own features mirrored on another face. When Patricia _finally_ showed, it was with her in tow, holding her hand as she gently led her inside. 

She spotted him easily, and the relaxed look left her face, derision replacing it. He wasn’t sure what he was more offended by; her open scorn, or the fact that she dared to scorn him after she’d cum so hard on his cock that she’d blanked out. 

She pulled out a chair for her daughter, helping her sit and setting her up with crayons and a book she produced from the little girl’s colorful backpack emblazoned with animated characters he didn’t recognize. She sat then, smoothing her skirt below her and folding her hands in front of her on the table. 

“Is she mine, Patricia?” He asked, nodding at her. 

“Do you even want to know her name before you lay claim to my child?” She snapped, her lips pressed into a thin line as she regarded him. “What’s your name, babes?” She asked, rubbing an affectionate hand through her hair. 

“Amelia Hodgins. I’m three years old.” She recited, as though she’d been coached on what to say when asked that question, which she likely was. He smiled—she’d pronounced _three_ as _free,_ and God help him, it was _adorable._

_Amelia._ He tasted the name on his tongue, frowning. Not the name _he_ would have picked, certainly. “It’s nice to meet you, Amelia.” He said, reaching forward to shake her little hand. She grinned up at him, placing her tiny hand in his own. He marveled at how small she was— _how beautiful—_ and then flicked his eyes up to Patricia expectantly. 

“Is she?”

“What he means, mommy?” Amelia asked, and Patricia glared at him. 

“Stop saying that!” She snapped at him. “Nothing, sweetheart. Why don’t you use your purple crayon? You love purple.” Amelia scrunched her face with displeasure, as though she knew she was being kept from something, but lacked the words to express it. When she finally began coloring, Patricia snapped her head back up. 

“She’s not…  _ yours _ Thor. Amelia’s father died.” She said flippantly, rolling her eyes at him. It was  _ almost _ convincing enough to make him stop questioning.  _ She’s not yours, Thor. _ Hot anger flooded him at her flippant denial of what he  _ knew _ was true—and then jealousy.  _ How many since me? _ He wondered enviously. How many men had entered and exited his daughter’s life, spending time with her while Thor—as her  _ fucking father— _ had been denied that. His eyes narrowed.  _ And how many _ , he thought venomously, even as his eyes traveled appreciatively down the exposed line of her now ample cleavage,  _ did sweet Patricia open those soft thighs for?  _

“I don’t believe you.” He said stonily, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his legs at the ankles. “I want a test.” She was his—he was certain of it, though Patricia’s consistent denials were close to making him second guess it. Amelia glanced up at him, her wide eyes curious before she hurriedly looked back down at her coloring book, continuing to scribble. 

“Well you’re not getting one.” She replied. “What are you so afraid of? I don’t want anything from you.” Patricia’s tone was icy. 

“I think you know.” He said accusingly, his frown widening into a smug smirk. It wouldn’t have been the first time someone tried to slap a member of his esteemed family with trumped up paternity suits. “I think you know I’m Thor Odinson, and my father owns one of the largest corporations in the country. I think you know I’m worth quite a lot, and that having my—”

“Oh _screw you._ ” She cut him off, pointing a finger accusingly at him. “I never _once_ contacted you. Never asked you for a single cent. Nothing. Not even your goddamn _name_ does she have. You know why? Because she _isn’t yours_ , Thor. She’s _mine._ She’s _my_ daughter, and after this ridiculous confrontation, she still will be. And you’re going to go home to your penthouse and your flavor of the fucking week, and I’m going to go home and raise her. Have the night you deserve.” She spat. She packed up Amelia’s things as she spoke, offering no explanation to the confused little girl, who it appeared had never seen her mother so angry. 

Thor said nothing and watched her, observing as she bundled her daughter up, and stormed out of the coffee shop. The door swung shut, and Thor immediately took his phone out of his pocket. 

_T: I need Natasha’s number._

_L: Don’t you have it already? And for what?_

_T: I think someone hacked my computer._

_L:...Okay? I’ll send it in a second._

When the contact came through, he saved it before calling her.

“Thor. What can I do for you?” She answered, not bothering with small talk.

“I need you to look up information on someone.” 

— —

Patricia’s heart was hammering in her chest as she left the coffee shop. _How fucking dare he?_ She seethed, grinding her teeth as she walked. Her pace was quick and angry, and if not for Amelia’s upset wail, she would have kept going, plowing through the evening crowd toward the train station. 

“Mommy, it hurts!” Patty released her guiltily, before dropping to one knee. 

“I’m sorry, sweetie. Mommy was rushing, I didn’t mean to pull so hard,” She apologized. “Do you want to stop?” 

Amelia sniffled. “Go home. Wanna go home.” She said slowly, wiping her teary eyes with the back of her small hand. 

“Okay, baby. Let’s go home.” 

Even with the evening rush, it didn’t take _too_ long to get back to Brooklyn, and Amelia was cranky by the time they did. On the walk home from the train station, she questioned Patricia incessantly about Thor, though she didn’t know his name. 

“Who that was, mommy?” She asked, turning those wide eyes up at her mother. Patty had almost felt a _little_ guilty about lying, but it was true. She didn’t want anything from him, so what did it matter? They _didn’t need_ him. She was doing fine on her own, Amelia was happy and well cared for. But part of her felt… bad. 

_How could a man like that be a good father?_

“That was… an old friend of mommy’s.” She said after a moment of consideration. “We… used to know each other before you were born.” 

Amelia’s mouth fell open in surprise, as though that was the strangest thing. “Before? That’s a long time ago.” She replied decisively. 

Patricia laughed in spite of herself. “You’re right, it was a long time ago.” 

She didn’t have the strength for dinner, and Amelia was just as happy eating pizza as she was anything that Patricia cooked. She let her watch T.V. that night while they ate—a rare treat. Amelia’s television time was strictly monitored, and Patricia tried her best not to let it get out of control. But that night her mind kept wandering, and she found her daughter tugging her hand and repeating herself. So she’d turned on netflix, and let her three year old put on whatever show she wanted; while fixing herself a glass of wine. 

_It’s right about now that I miss smoking weed,_ She mused, sighing as she took a sip. “God.” She muttered, rubbing her temples. Amelia was happy enough to sit on the rug and watch bubble guppies while her mother sat on the weathered armchair she’d acquired in college. 

After a couple of episodes, she grabbed the remote from Amelia, who protested. “Bath time, fish.” She replied, tapping her nose. “Don’t you want to be all clean for class tomorrow?” Amelia looked thoughtful, as though weighing each option. Patricia laughed. “Come on.” 

And when Amelia was in bed, and all the lights were out, she checked the door to make sure it was locked, before sliding the deadbolt across—just in case. She rested her forehead against the cool wood, sighing. Had he seen her there, dropping off Amelia, and put two and two together? How had she _not_ known who he was? The apartment, the name… all of those should have clued her in, but Patricia had simply put it all aside, preferring not to think about that night at all. 

She didn’t regret it exactly, after all, it had brought her Amelia—but she wished more than anything that her daughter’s father could be anyone other than Thor Odinson. She headed back toward her bedroom, and spent an hour or two putting up her bookshelf, and unpacking a few boxes of books. It was busywork, something for her nervous hands to do while her mind raced.

It had felt _good_ to lay into him, after holding her tongue for three long years. Patty threw herself back onto her bed, a breath escaping her body at the impact. _I just have to make it one month at this daycare, and then I can find a new place. Somewhere he won’t be able to stand outside and stalk us._

—

The rest of the week was fairly uneventful. Patricia took Amelia to daycare, went to work, she picked her back up, and went home. It was tempting to forget the encounter she’d had with Thor just a few days earlier. 

Her new job was demanding, moreso than she was used to. She had to call clients, verify orders, return phone calls, monitor the emails and requests, loaning pieces out to other galleries, getting pieces _back_ from said galleries… Her head threatened to explode—but it was all worth it on friday morning, when her first weekly check deposited into her account. That evening, as she’d rode the train home with Amelia perched on her lap, she’d told her daughter the good news. 

“What do you want for dinner tonight? Anything you want, Melly belly.” 

Amelia pursed her lips in thought. “Ice cream.” 

“Just ice cream?” Patricia asked, raising an eyebrow. “Nothing else?” 

“And… apple pie.” She added, nodding her head decisively. 

“Hah! Okay. I’ll see what I can do. How about the barbecue place? You like them, right?” Her daughter grinned wide in response.

“I like ribs, mommy.” She agreed, and offered her her hand. Patricia sighed. Ever since Thor had shaken her hand, she’d taken a liking to the act, wanting to do it at the end of every conversation. Though her paternity was a closely kept secret, she found it odd that Amelia had… liked him. She’d been curious about him, though she normally reacted to new men with suspicion and shyness. 

It irritated her. How dare he try to waltz in here and order her around when she hadn’t so much as lifted a finger to find him? She’d known he was callous and selfish, that much had been clearly evident when she’d looked back on his behavior, but this was a new level of controlling. Patty had a feeling he wasn’t done with them yet, and though he’d let them walk away from the coffee shop, she didn’t think that would be the end of it. 

“This is us.” She got up from her seat, making sure they had all their bags. Patricia was nothing if not a focused mother—and it was because of this focus that she failed to see the woman a few seats away _also_ get up, and make her way over to the same set of doors. 

She was so focused on Amelia on their walk home from the train station that she didn’t see her trailing behind them while scrolling on her phone, though her eyes were locked on the pair in front of her. 

“Put your hood up, it’s chilly out.” She instructed, moving to help her. When Patricia undid the latch on the gate, they went up the stairs and unlocked the door. The woman kept walking until they’d gone inside, and then circled back to watch for a few minutes. 

She pulled out her phone as she walked away.

“Yeah, it’s a brownstone. Canarsie. No, no men. None all week, I doubt she’s seeing anyone, just goes to bed after dinner.” She paused. “I mean… if you want my opinion, which is worth less that shit because I’m not a goddamn _geneticist_ … she’s yours, Thor.” 

—

Patricia’s suspicions were confirmed when she checked her mail the next morning. They’d slept in, and she’d coerced Amelia into “helping” her unpack with freezer waffles. And when she’d opened her mailbox, she immediately took note of the envelope with no postage, and no writing on it. She’d rushed back inside, her heart hammering in her chest as she slammed the door shut behind her. She dropped the other mail on the hall table, ignoring it as she opened the unmarked envelope with shaking fingers. 

_I want a paternity test._

It was written on a post it, attached to— _is this a fucking court order?_ The papers included a copy of a formal request by a fancy lawyer, and the judge’s corresponding decision. Her vision narrowed. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was supposed to be their new start, and instead, her old life had sniffed her out like a fucking bloodhound. There wasn’t a signature, but she knew it was from Thor—who else would demand this? 

When she wandered back into the living room, Amelia was playing on her phone. She’d figured out the password months ago, and she’d neglected to change it.

“Can I have my phone, Amelia?” Patricia asked, holding out her hand. It was a useful distraction when she needed to take her attention off of something, She handed it over reluctantly, and Patty unlocked it, intending to text Wanda—when she saw she had a text from an unsaved number. 

_T: I’d like to talk about this in person, but if you would rather go through the courts, we can do that too._

She didn’t know how he’d gotten her number, but she supposed if he knew enough about her to find her daycare, then her cellphone number wasn’t a far jump. “Oh Christ.” Her fingers shook as she typed. It would be better than him trying for custody after paternity was established—and of course it would be. It wouldn’t look good, her lie—she knew it wouldn’t. 

_Why does he want this so badly?_

It didn’t make sense. For a man who’d tried to pay her to leave his apartment as fast as she could, why would he want...access to her? Her daughter? Maybe if she talked to him more, assured him she didn’t want anything from him, maybe he’d leave them alone. That’s probably all it was. 

_P: Where do you want to meet?_

Three dots immediately appeared at the bottom of the message thread, signifying that he’d read the message, and was responding. 

_T: Tonight. Iliad. Bring Amelia._

Patty couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Figures he’d want to meet at one of the most overpriced— _overbooked_ —restaurants in the city. And knowing his name meant that he would most definitely be getting a table.

_No way in hell am I bringing Amelia._

A knock came at the apartment door, and Patricia pet out a quiet shriek before clapping a hand to her chest to calm her rapidly beating heart. She jumped away from the door, and faced it, shaking. Another knock sounded, and she jumped again, before creeping forward to peer through the keyhole. 

_It’s just UPS._ She breathed a sigh of relief before opening the door.

“Good morning, I’ve got something for Patricia Hodgins?” 

“That’s me.” 

She signed the electronic machine, and took the soft parcel from the delivery man. She didn’t particularly remember ordering anything, but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d forgotten. She closed the door gingerly behind herself once again, and frowned down at the package. It looked legitimate, and she squished it in her hands just to make sure it wasn’t anything nefarious. _It just feels like… clothes._

Patricia tore open the packaging, holding up the swath of cloth as she tried to make sense of it. She definitely hadn’t ordered any clothes recently—not with their moving costs. 

“That dress _pretty_ , mommy.” She looked up to see Amelia poking her little head out of the living room, nodding appreciatively. Her face heated. It _was_ pretty—a little, silky black slip that went underneath a shimmering, gold tulle cocktail dress with a high neck, flowing sleeves, and a plunging back. There was still a price tag, and she swallowed thickly upon seeing the dollar amount printed there. 

“Two _thousand_ dollars?” She breathed, suddenly wanting more than anything to wrap the dress back up and send it back where it came from, which was undoubtedly Thor. Her phone buzzed. 

_T: Did you get my present?_

Patricia gritted her teeth. She wanted to call him, and scream through the reciever that she wouldn’t be wearing _anything_ he bought her; wanted to take Amelia and just _run_ —but she knew it wouldn’t do much good. He had infinite resources at his disposal, and she was a single mother with a three year old. _I probably wouldn’t even make it to Florida, let alone out of the country._ But maybe he’d be more agreeable if she accepted his gift. 

Their last attempt at a civil conversation had gone poorly, though Patty refused any responsibility for it. What was he expecting, cornering her outside of her daughter’s daycare? She held the dress up to the light, the pearlescent beading shining in the light. 

_P: Why did you buy me this?_ Patty knew her indignation came through in text, and didn’t try to soften the blow. 

_T: I thought it would look nice on you._

Patricia hated the warm pleasure that spread through her at the admission that he’d thought of her. _What the fuck is wrong with me?_

_P: What time are we meeting?_

_T: Eight. Be on time._

  
  


—

The dress looked even better on. She wasn’t sure if he’d correctly guessed her sizing, or if he’d had someone sneak into the house to steal some of her clothing for reference, but it fit. It was _almost_ too snug on her hips, and had taken just a _little_ wiggling to get past them. _If this was four years ago, I could have just slid into this getup with no problem._ She was still attempting to wrestle her kinky hair into submission when the doorbell rang—her babysitter. 

“Hi, Marissa. Come on on, thanks for being able to watch Amelia so short notice,” She replied gratefully, ushering the younger girl inside. She was one of the teaching assistants at the daycare, and one of the other parents had recommended her.

“Hi, Miss Hodgins. Hey Amelia!” Amelia squealed loudly with excitement as Marissa waved at her, and didn’t waste any time dragging her toward her bedroom to show off her many toys. 

It would take at least forty five minutes to get into Manhattan by train, and though she wasn’t particularly concerned about Thor’s “be on time” order, she knew it probably wasn’t wise to keep him waiting _too_ long. _I guess I could take a cab…_ She wasn’t sure how she felt navigating the subway in this getup either.

When she was finally finished getting dressed, she stopped briefly to observe herself in the hallway mirror, her lips creasing with displeasure. Patricia barely recognized herself. She couldn’t remember the last time she wore something that wasn’t leggings or business casual. She preened for a moment, before shaking her head. _No._ This was just for tonight. She was only going to tell him in no uncertain terms that she wanted no part of him—that _they_ wanted no part of him; dress be damned. 

Her taxi was waiting outside by the time Patricia made it down the stairs, and she rushed into it. Luckily for her, the traffic wasn’t as horrible as she anticipated, and she arrived right on time. Thor was outside the venue, waiting. Just like the first time she’d seen him, his clothing was impeccable, expertly tailored slacks, and a white silk shirt. His hair had gotten longer, too, and the beginnings of salt were _just_ starting to make themselves apparent in his beard. She wasn’t sure what to say, or how to greet him—it wasn’t like she was exactly pleased to see him. 

“Hi.” She stood awkwardly in front of him, her fingers still playing nervously with the hem of her dress. 

“You look...fantastic.” He took his time appraising her, and he circled her, grinning before the smile fell from his handsome features. “Where’s Amelia?”

“I left her at home,” Patricia replied curtly. “I didn’t think it was… _appropriate_ to bring her.” She let the words hang in the air between them, taking a perverse amount of pleasure at the displeased curl of his lip. 

“I told you to bring her.” His voice was low, menacing. 

“And I told _you_ that I left her at home with the babysitter. Can we go inside now?” Patricia snapped impatiently, shifting away from him. Thor followed her movement, snaking an arm around her hips to pull her close. His fingers ghosted across the exposed skin of her back, drawing goosebumps to the surface of her skin. 

“Let’s find our table, then.” He didn’t allow her to trail after him as they entered, holding her closely. She wasn’t sure if this was meant to be a punishment or not, but it certainly felt like one as he paraded her past curious onlookers in the foyer. It was clear that people knew who he was—the disdain with which they regarded Patrica made that perfectly clear. _I didn’t ask to be here._ People parted for them easily, moving aside for Thor Odinson and his date as they moved toward the maitre’d.

“Odinson. Table for two.” He spoke authoritatively, speaking to the host as though he were barely there. Everything about him screamed wealth and privilege, and Patty doubted he’d ever been denied a single thing in his entire life. His hand was still warm—almost hot—on her hip, and he directed her easily toward their table. The host departed, promising their server would be by soon with drink menus, leaving the two of them alone. 

  
  


Thor’s eyes seemed to bore into her, and Patricia had to force herself to stare back, instead of looking down at the floor. Her knees were trembling, and her palms were sweaty as she twisted the tablecloth with nervous fingers. Thor for his part seemed completely cool, folding his hands together as he watched her. 

“You want to get a bottle of wine? Since you didn’t bring Amelia.” A grin spread across his face. “Red? White?”

“I—white. Thor, you didn’t need to buy me a dress.” She replied, attempting to cut to the chase. He didn’t look up from the menu, answering her with a shrug. “Thor.” She slapped her hand against the table to get his attention, and he sighed, snapping the menu shut before he put it down. 

“Fine. I didn’t _need_ to buy you a dress, Patricia. I _wanted_ to. I _wanted_ to do something nice for you. Is that so hard to believe?” 

“Yes?” She laughed as she said it. “You’re an asshole.” It slipped out before she could hold it in. “You came to my _house._ ” Her hands balled themselves into fists on the table. “Not just the house—you… I had to meet with the director after that scene you made.” Patricia said, her cheeks heating at the memory. It had been horrifically embarrassing; the older woman calling her into the back office. 

_“Is this going to be a problem?”_ She’d asked, pushing her thin rimmed glasses up her nose as she frowned at Patty. _“I’m not judging your situation,”_ She continued, though Patricia knew with absolute certainty that she _was—“But we can’t have parents arguing in front of the entrance. It’s not good for the children.”_

_In other words,_ Patricia thought angrily, _Mrs. Pfeltzer thinks I’m trash._

“If you’d told me you were pregnant, we might have avoided this.” He blinked at her, as though he saw no error in his own actions. _I know I’m not the only one he used and discarded._ It was as though he saw the snide thought cross her mind, and he scowled at her, rolling his eyes. “Oh what? You were a consenting adult.” 

“I was a drunk college kid who is at _least_ six years your junior, I’m guessing.” Patricia crossed her arms incredulously—Thor showed no remorse. He simply sighed, and picked back up the drink menu as the server approached. The tension between them had to be palpable, and the young man swallowed nervously before speaking. 

“C-can I get you anything to drink before you order this evening?” He asked, clearing his throat. “Ma’am?” 

“Vodka sour, please.” Patricia fired off. If she was going to have to put up with his pompous behavior all night, she should at least have the privilege of being plastered for it. He raised a brow at her selection. 

“We’ll have a bottle of the La Scolca. Black label.” 

“Excellent. I’ll be right back.” He practically fled the table, looking back nervously. 

“Are you done playing the victim?” He drawled, cocking his head at her. Patricia felt old, hot anger flare up in her gut—but the years had dulled her temper, and heightened her patience. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Arguing with him about this wasn’t going to solve anything, and it was only wasting time. She had to convince him that he didn’t need a paternity test— _that_ was her goal. This was just an old grudge—no matter how justified.

  
  


“I just want to clear this up.” Patricia began, and Thor inclined his head, raising an eyebrow as if to tell her he was listening. “Look. That’s… we can talk about that another time. I know you wanted to talk about Amelia, so let’s talk about Amelia.” 

He perked up like a golden retriever at the mention of a walk. “Yes. Let’s.” 

“I guess I understand your...concern. I don’t want your money, Thor.” She gestured around at the restaurant. “I don’t want _any_ of this. You don’t have to be worried I’m going to try and spring a court case on you for half your salary. We don’t need it.” 

The corners of his mouth curved up into that ever-irritating smirk as he stroked his beard. Patricia swallowed nervously. _What did I say?_

“So she _is_ mine.” 

Patricia sputtered. “I didn’t—No, I didn’t say—” She’d said no such thing! But somehow he’d warped her words, twisted them into an affirmation. He leaned across the table, cupping her hands with deceptive gentleness, stroking the backs of her palms with his thumbs, drawing small circles on them. 

“Patricia.” 

“Amelia’s father is dead.” She repeated, shaking her head in denial, though Thor looked anything but convinced. “He was in a car accident right after I got pregnant.” Patty recited it like she had in the mirror, but he regarded her blankly. 

“There’s no father listed on her birth certificate.” He reached up to cup her chin. “I would think _very carefully_ about the next lie you tell.” His voice was gentle, but the threat in it was clear. “Who is Amelia’s father, Patricia?”Her lip trembled as she fought back hot, angry tears. She tried to turn her head away but his grip tightened, forcing her to meet his gaze. He remained relaxed, his neutral expression almost affectionate. To any onlooker, it seemed a lover’s embrace. 

“How do you—”

“Patricia. I know she’s mine. Whether on paper or not, I know. I can _see_ it.” He released her. “If you want to take this to court, I assure you I’ll win.” The waiter returned with their drinks, and Patricia was unable to acknowledge his presence, her mind still turning over his threat. Thor accepted the drinks in her stead. “Thank you. We’ll have the tasting menu for two.” His tone was dismissive, and the young man took the hint. He turned back to her, his expression unreadable. 

“You kept my daughter from me.” He said, removing the bottle from the ice bath bucket it was in. He poured two glasses, and gave one to her which she didn’t touch. “She’s _mine_ , Patricia.” His voice took on a possessive quality. “I want to see her, spend time with her.” That, she wasn’t quite buying. 

“More like punish me for keeping you from hurting her all this time.” Patricia muttered. Thor let out a deep, sarcastic laugh.

“Hurt her?”

“Oh come _on_. Look at you.” She gestured at him. “If I’d told you, you probably would have tried to convince me to have an abortion.” She snapped. “And I didn’t… I wanted her.” He didn’t even have the decency to appear shocked at her accusation, and after a moment he nodded. 

“I would have.” He admitted it easily, shrugging. Of course he would have. He was the successful son of one of the richest families in the _world. If he’d wanted kids, he wouldn’t have picked a barely out of college_ **_nobody_ ** _to have them with_ , Patricia thought somewhat bitterly. “I would have paid you, probably.” The way he said it made it seem like it wasn’t the first time he’d had such a slip-up.

“Then why all this?” She asked. “Why does it even matter?” 

“Because you kept my daughter from me for _three years._ So I want three years with her.” The color drained from Patty’s face and her mouth pressed itself into a thin line as he spoke. “Calm down, Patricia, I don’t mean to take her from you. That would be _monstrous._ ” Though he spoke sarcastically, there was honesty there as well. “You’re going to move in with me.” He delivered the order with authority, as though daring her to question it. 

_He’s treating me like I’m still in fucking school. Unbelievable._ Even after three years, he’d gone right back into talking to her like she was nothing more than a child to him. Nevermind the fact that he’d eagerly slid between her legs when it was convenient for him. 

“I don’t think so.” Patricia replied, crossing her arms. The server returned a third time, setting the plates in front of them. 

“This is a roasted brussel sprout salad—”

“We are _not_ moving in with you.” Patricia spat, ignoring him. She felt a little bad when he snapped his mouth shut and scurried off, and Thor chuckled amusedly. 

“No? Then I go through with the court order, get my paternity test—and we _both_ know what the results of _that_ will be—and then I’ll get custody.” He speared a brussel sprout with his fork before popping it into his mouth and savoring it. “I could have her by next month, Patty.” 

Her mouth went dry. Was he serious? Could she afford to test him and find out? Even with her parents behind her, they might _never_ be able to get good enough lawyers to get her back if he went through with his cheerfully delivered promise. God, was he so petty? Just because she’d told him no?

But… She didn’t want to lose her daughter. 

“What about weekends? You could take her every other—”

“Now you want to bargain? What happened to that conviction?” He taunted. As he did so, he slid his hand across the table to squeeze hers. “I’m not interested in part time.” He replied, taking another bite. 

“This is unreasonable. It’s disruptive for her, we _just_ moved—”

“Then she isn’t settled in yet.” He said decisively. “Patricia don’t make this harder.” 

She sighed, defeated. “Fine.”

Having gotten his way, the dark cloud hovering over his features seemed to lift and he beamed at her. “See? Was that so hard?”

“No.” _And yes._ “I… I don’t want you to hurt her, Thor.” Patricia repeated, meeting his gaze as earnestly as she could. “I don’t want you to come into her life and then get bored with her. She’s a _person._ And she doesn’t deserve to get treated….” She trailed off. _Like you treated me._

“You’re worrying over nothing.”

She frowned. She doubted this man had willingly been in the presence of a child for longer than ten full minutes. Finally, she took a bite of her food, her eyebrows lifting with surprise. “Oh.”

“Good?” He asked, smiling at her. “It’s their autumn tasting menu. The chef’s a good friend of mine, always does a good job.” He took another sip of wine from his glass, and Patricia started on her vodka—she hadn’t even had time to drink it yet, and it already felt like so much had happened. 

“Yes, it’s delicious.” 

Next came beef carpaccio with oyster aioli and rye crisps, and then cider steamed mussels with crusty, grilled slices of sourdough bread—and by then, Patricia was practically bursting at the seams. 

“What did you do in Long Island for three years?” He asked, and she sighed. 

“I worked part time. Spent a lot of time with Amelia. She’s already starting to read, you know. She’s very good.” Patricia couldn’t help the proud smile that made its way onto her face. “She loves animals, but she’s not the most gentle kid, so we’re waiting on that.” Strangely, a jealous look flashed across his features as she spoke, and Patricia wondered what they could possibly have that he didn’t already own. _How could he possibly envy me?_

“I see. Well my apartment is no pets allowed, so she’ll have to wait a little longer.” 

Next came miso broiled cod, and then Patty was tapping out. “I can’t eat another bite.” She complained, leaning back in her seat. “I can’t handle all this rich food. How do you people live like this?” 

“Good home training, for one,” He chuckled, and his eyes sparkled with amusement at her ire when she glared at him. 

“They didn’t train you to wear condoms?” She snapped, and he rolled his eyes.

“Back to this, are we?” 

“Sorry. It slipped out.” She admitted, hiccoughing. They’d worked their way through the entire bottle of wine, and the animosity that Patricia had been feeling toward Thor had ebbed some. If they were going to be co-parenting, it would probably be for the best if Amelia didn’t see them at each other’s throats all the time. 

“I don’t want to fight like this in front of Amelia.” He replied, mirroring her thoughts. 

“No, no. You’re right.” Patricia sniffed. 

“Good. I’ll call movers in the morning.” She wondered on a scale of one to ten how angry Wanda was going to be when she broke lease and moved in with her… baby daddy. 

_Ugh._

“I was thinking,” Thor said, running his tongue across his lips. “Maybe you’d like to come back and see the apartment. Pick out Amelia’s room.” The grin on his face was anything _but_ parental as he appraised her. Patricia wasn’t stupid—she knew a pick-up when she heard one. Suddenly, doubt crept in. What if she refused him, and he took Amelia anyway? He hadn’t made _that_ threat yet, but… would she risk that? 

“Okay.” 


	4. Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patricia gets her night cap, and Thor tries to move things along the best way he knows how: with force.

_ P: Hey, Marissa. I’m going to be back later than I thought. Are you okay to stay with Amelia? _

She’d barely had time to send the text before he impatiently ripped her phone out of her hands, pulling at the zipper on the back of her dress. His mouth was hot against her throat, sucking and biting at every inch of her he could reach. Thor had managed to keep his hands to himself the whole car ride back to his apartment, but the elevator was clearly a different story. 

“Knew you were going to look amazing in this,” He murmured, impatiently tugging the hem of her dress up as he forced her back against the closed elevator doors. They’d only just managed to exit it when he’d set upon her like a man possessed, his hungry hands and persistent mouth muddying her convictions. 

_ Just a drink. That’s it. _ She’d said to herself as they exited the restaurant. 

Now, it looked like she wouldn’t even be getting  _ that _ . 

“Thor…” His name came out as a breathy plea, and not the firm statement she’d intended. He groaned against her throat. 

“Fuck it.” The sound of fabric ripping made her start. 

“Hey! Thor, wait—” He laved his tongue against her skin, leaving goosebumps when he pulled away. 

“I don’t want to wait.” If those words had come out of Amelia’s mouth, they would have been amusing, but coming from him, they made her shudder, and her pussy throbbed in spite of herself.  _ Goddammit. _

“Thor!” His hands finally stilled and he heaved a massive sigh before pulling away. His eyes were dark, and his handsome face bore a dissatisfied frown. 

“What?” He asked, irritated. “What’s the problem?”

“My problem is you’re tearing my clothes off, and I don’t really want to get fucked against the elevator.” She snapped, shoving him. It did about as much good as pushing against a boulder, and he simply stared down at her, tight lipped. He didn’t like being told no—he and Amelia seemed to have that in common. “I was promised a drink, was I not?” She asked again, and he seemed to consider it. 

After a tense moment, he moved aside, and allowed her into the apartment. It was almost the same as she remembered, save a few differences in the furniture, and the art on the walls. There was a fireplace in the living room now, built into the exposed brick dividing wall. None of it was her style at all—everything was trendy and new, muted colors, stainless steel. His apartment had a highly impersonal feel to it, and it made her shudder. Her phone buzzed. 

_ M: Of course! I can crash on the couch, no biggie. As long as you don’t mind me using your wifi to download some things for class 😅 _

_ I’ll have to tip her nicely, _ Patricia thought to herself. Thor moved around her to the liquor cabinet, and took out a bottle and two glasses. His movements were sharp and irritated; Patricia could tell he wasn’t pleased about being denied. If this was going to work, she couldn’t afford to let him… cloud her judgement. 

“Ice?” He asked, and she shook her head. 

“No thank you.” He slid the glass across the countertop to her, and Patricia caught it easily. “I like the fireplace,” She offered, by way of apology. He nodded. 

“I had it installed last year.” God the small talk was killing her. She downed the entirety of the glass in a single swallow, before placing it back down onto the table. He did the same, before refilling both glasses. “I was thinking I could turn the downstairs office into her bedroom.” He began, but Patricia was already shaking her head. 

“No. There are other rooms upstairs, aren’t there? I don’t want her to be so far away from me.” Thor quirked an eyebrow, and Patricia sputtered defensively. “She’s only three! She gets scared at night, Thor.” It was true, Amelia slept in her own room about two nights out of the week—if you added up all the hours cumulatively, anyway. Her suspicions about his lack of childcare experience confirmed, she couldn’t help the haughty tone her voice took on.

“You realize that puts her right next to our bedroom, yes?” He drawled, dual meaning dripping from his words. Patricia’s eyes widened as the realization sank in. She hated his arrogance, the assumption that she would be available for his... _ use _ . But still her center throbbed needily, remembering the  _ last _ promises he’d made, and how...eagerly he’d fulfilled them. 

“ _ Our _ bedroom? Thor, I’m not sleeping in a room with you.” Of course  _ he’d _ attempt to take advantage of their situation, but Patricia needed to remain steadfast. He smiled at her winningly, and she swallowed.  _ It’s not going to work on me this time, _ she thought resolutely, even as her pulse quickened at the thought of him touching her again. 

“Oh?” He asked, taking another sip of his drink before steepling his fingers. “I thought we agreed to parent together.” He raised an eyebrow as though stating an obvious fact. 

“Just in case you hadn’t noticed, plenty of people are capable of successfully parenting their children while  _ not _ boning.” Patricia countered. “It’s not like there’s a law written that says we have to like one another.” Thor didn’t seem particularly fazed by this. In fact, it appeared that he was taking it as a cue to come closer, moving around the table to lean against the counter next to her. His hand found purchase on her waist, his fingers stroking gently. 

“No, I suppose there isn’t.” He said absently, as though she’d spoken about the weather. 

“L-look, I’m willing to let you co-parent her. Isn’t that enough?” She asked shakily, though she already knew the answer.  _ No. _ It wouldn’t be enough. Thor wasn’t the type of person to share his toys—even if they were broken and old, and he never played with them anymore anyway. Patricia was loathe to accept a future of living with her daughter’s father as he chased skirt but refused to allow her the same privilege. She tried to push his arm off, but it was as immobile as stone.

“Is that enough.” Thor drew the words out carefully, as though weighing each one on his tongue. “Would it be enough for you, Patricia?” His voice sounded hungry as he spoke her.  _ He only wants me because I said no.  _ She tried to remind herself of this as his breath ruffled the loose curls at the base of her throat. His lips touched her so gently she gasped at the contact as he drew them across her flesh. 

“Thor… This isn’t a good idea.” She tried appealing to his common sense instead, though his singlemidedness was becoming more and more apparent the more they interacted; wasn’t likely that he would allow her to change his mind. “We should be focusing on Amelia, not…this.” She didn’t love him. Hell, Patricia didn’t even  _ like _ him—but when he reached under her dress to palm her ass almost lovingly, she felt herself relax against him all the same. 

She swatted at his hand after a moment, though he didn’t let up. “A bad idea would be  _ not _ fucking you on this table, baby.” The pet name sent shivers down her spine. She hadn’t taken many other lovers over the years, and the ones that she  _ had _ had were…nothing to write home about, nothing special. But they’d never called her that. 

Only Thor. 

Despite everything screaming in her brain not to let him, to tell him to get his hands off of her, to leave—his warm hand tracing patterns on the bare skin of her back, the hand under her dress, massaging the soft flesh of her ass with expert fingers made her reconsider just for a second. And a second was all he needed, sucking her skin between his teeth and biting, hard. Patricia hissed, jackknifing against him. 

“Oh baby. You missed me, didn’t you?” She shook her head in the negative.

“You’re so self centered,” She countered, pushing weakly at his arm. “You think I’ve just been pining over you for three years? Wishing you’d find me and sweep me off my feet?” Thor wasn’t bothered by her false bravado, and stroked a finger along the damp seam of her panties. 

“I think you never forgot how cock felt inside you,” He said casually, and Patricia gasped, sputtering as her face heated.  _ How can he just…  _ **_say_ ** _ that?! _

“You—!” He thrust against her ass, his semi-hard cock pushing against her. “Thor, seriously. We already have enough issues without us adding sex to the mix.” 

“Then why are you so wet, Patricia?” He nipped her earlobe before laving the reddened mark with his tongue. “You haven’t left. You’ve barely even tried to move,” He said softly his breath puffing against the wetness he’d left. She turned in his arms then—partially in protest of his correct assessment—and stubbornly faced him.

“I’m not. I—” Her next protest was cut short by the press of his mouth against her own, his lips hungrily seeking hers as he pushed her back against the island. Barstools squeaked against the hardwood floor as he shoved them out of the way, and Patty’s traitorous hands found their wait to his chest, fisting in his shirt. “Mmf!” He forced her dress up even further, tugging impatiently when it caught around her ample hips. 

It shouldn’t have felt so good, his lips against hers. He drank every sound that escaped from her greedily, plundering her mouth as his hands ignited fires in her flesh. It was in that moment that Patricia knew she’d lost—it felt almost sinful how much she wanted this in spite of herself. He pulled away, panting, his eyes dark and expression ravenous. Thor swiped a thumb against her kiss swollen lips, grinning down at her triumphantly. 

“Having my baby looks good on you,” He surmised, having finally successfully exposed more of her body. Patricia glared at him, though she knew it would mean practically nothing anyway. Thor licked his lips lasciviously as he cupped one of her breasts through the rumpled fabric of her dress. In spite of herself, she moaned.

“Don’t hope to get lucky twice,” She said, smirking as he glowered. “I’m on birth control.” He responded by tangling two fingers in the crotch of her panties to pull them aside. Patricia didn’t normally appreciate being pushed around, but there was some alien part of her brain that...wanted to listen to him. Wanted to  _ please _ him. She’d thought that three years of despising her literal baby-daddy would kill it, but clearly that hadn’t happened. In fact, the direct opposite seemed to be true, it wanted her to writhe and purr underneath him like a kitten. 

“Better late than never.” He quipped, and she tried to close her legs against his hand, but he held them open easily. “Oh baby you are _ drenched. _ ” He swiped a finger up her embarrassingly wet slit and held it up for her to see. It had been at least six months since she’d last attempted  _ anything _ with anyone else, and while Patricia could always find pleasure and release at her own hand, it didn’t feel like  _ this _ . 

“God I hate you,” it slipped out before she could stop it, and his hands stilled. Patricia was leaned back, her legs dangling off the table as Thor loomed over her, his face amused. “I-I—”

“I know.” He bent down to kiss her again, his lips just as insistent as before. He didn’t care. It was almost laughable—of course he didn’t. “But there’s no law written anywhere that says we have to like one another.” Her own words sounded back at her, and Patricia wanted to yell at him that that wasn’t what she’d meant, but the press of his finger against her rapidly swelling clit turned the words into a strangled cry of surprise. 

He muttered something under his breath that Patricia didn’t hear—it sounded like a curse, but she wasn’t sure—and pinched the sensitive flesh between his fingers. Her legs jerked and her body went rigid, her back straightening as the intensity rocketed up and down all her nerve endings. “I hate you,” She repeated again, and this time he didn’t stop, his other hand working the zipper down on her dress. 

His fingers slid against the slick pooling at her opening, and Thor lifted them to his lips, his tongue wrapping around each digit and cleaning them thoroughly of her juices. “You can hate me and want me at the same time, Patty.” He pulled her hips forward, seating her neatly against him. He was hard already, pushing insistently against the seam of his pants. “Two things can be true.” Patricia found it difficult to argue with that when he thrust a thick finger into her soft heat, groaning at her tightness. 

He pumped slowly, reveling in the sticky, squishing sounds that began to filter through the air. Patricia attempted to close her legs in embarrassment, but Thor refused to be moved, gracing the exposed skin of her thigh with a stinging spank. She hissed. “Hey! Thor, no—”

“Don’t.” He warned, his voice hard. He soothed the sting with a few gentle strokes of his finger. “I know it’s been a long time for you, baby.” He said slowly, gently crooking his finger inside of her and hmm-ing with pleasure when her eyes slid to half mast and her hips bucked against his hand of their own accord. Patty normally had a good grip on her smart mouth, but for some reason being around  _ him _ seemed to loosen her tongue. 

“How long do you think it’s been?” She panted, unable to keep the spiteful smirk off of her face or out of her tone. “You think I waited around for you?” Anger flashed in his eyes, and before Patty knew it, he was kissing her again, plundering her mouth with possessive fury. He sucked her lip into his mouth, nipping it so harshly that Patricia tasted the coppery tang of blood before he licked it away. The fingers of the hand that wasn’t buried inside her soaked center dug into her hip hard enough to leave dark bruises as he held her. 

“Do you think it matters,” he snarled against her mouth, “how many inferior  _ boys _ you let fucking  _ paw _ at you?” He thrust a second finger in with the first, running his tongue along her lips as her mouth fell open and an agonized moan escaped. “This is  _ mine _ , Patricia. Always fucking will be.  _ No one _ has had you like I’ve had you.  _ No one else fucked a baby into you but me.” _ Thor clutched her possessively, his hand still working tirelessly between her thighs. He ground the heel of his palm into her clit, and Patricia convulsed, crying out as she was rocketed towards an all consuming orgasm. Her limbs shook in Thor’s grip and she felt herself convulsing wildly around his fingers. 

He removed them from her, and Patty couldn’t help the disappointed Imoan that escaped her at their loss. Thor’s fingers were already undoing the button at the top of his trousers and pulling himself out, pumping his thick shaft a few times before he tugged her closer to the edge of the island.

_ This is happening. _ He slid the head of his cock against her, and Patricia shuddered at the faint memory of being completely full to bursting with him. She didn’t want to admit to anyone—herself, or least of all, Thor—that she  _ had _ thought about it. That she’d let her hands wander down the planes of her own body, pretending they were his. 

She hated it. 

He pushed against her, his head popping  _ just _ inside. The slight sting of being stretched, coupled with the pleasure of his entry made her slump back against the table—and she would have lain flat on her back if not for the strong arm that encircled her torso, pressing her to his body. Patricia wrapped her arms around his shoulders, biting her lip as he sank in deeper. 

“Oh  _ God _ ,” She moaned, her head lolling back. “Oh, fuck…” She was still trembling with pleasurable aftershocks, and she could feel the muscles tensing and bunching in his back as he withdrew almost all the way. “No!” The whimpered plea slipped from her lips before she could stop it, and Thor’s chest rumbled with laughter. 

“Don’t fret, baby.” He said softly, his voice deceptively gentle as he forced his cock back into her pussy. “I’m going to be here all night.” 

She wanted to complain, to deny that it was what she wanted, but Patricia didn’t have the words for deceit in that particular moment. Thor, it seemed, was more than happy to take advantage of that lapse in brain function; throwing his head back as he tried to sink deep enough inside her that she would never be rid of him.

_ “Fuck. _ How could I forget how tight you are?” He murmured appreciatively, cupping her chin with one hand and swiping his thumb across her bottom lip. He traced her lips once, twice, before pressing it into her mouth. Patricia let him, before stroking it with her tongue. He sucked in a breath of air through clenched teeth and snapped his hips. “I think next time we’ll find a use for that mouth.” 

Another impossibly loud moan wrenched itself from her mouth before she frowned up at him. “Not—gonna be—next time,” She ground out. Thor didn’t slow his pace, pulling her body against his with just as much fervor as before. “Fuck!” 

“Oh no?” He asked sarcastically, his balls slapping against her ass as he hiked one of her legs up. Thor groaned loudly at the even tighter fit, resting his forehead against Patricia’s. “Then I guess we should make this count.” Patricia could feel him pushing her further and further toward the inevitable fall, her muscles taut and her blood practically singing with pleasure as it raced through her veins. 

_ Yes, yes, yes, yes— _

He palmed her breast through the crushed fabric of her dress, pulling at her nipple. “So soft.” He spoke quietly, almost reverently. “You’re getting close, aren’t you baby?” His voice was like black honey, sticking in her ears and to her skin. Patricia found herself nodding, thrusting her hips wantonly towards him. “Greedy girl.” 

“I’m so close,” She whined, the needy voice coming from her own lips sounding completely foreign. 

“Then ask.” Patricia looked at him confusedly as his thrusts slowed, leaving him almost immobile inside her. She tried to move on her own, but he held her down, his blue eyes gleaming with triumph. Her muddy brain took a few moments to catch up, before her eyes narrowed. 

“Thor, I’m not—”

_ CRACK! _

His hand landed hard against her hip, leaving a reddened handprint that Patricia justn  _ knew _ would bruise. The sudden, stinging slap made her hiss and cry out, pushing fruitlessly against his chest. “Good girls ask permission before they get my cock all sloppy.” He grasped her chin in his hand, tilting her head up so that he could drop another falsely tender kiss onto her trembling mouth. 

Maybe it was the alcohol. That was certainly what Patty was going to blame this on when it was all said and done. 

“Please, Thor. Please can… Can I cum?” She knew she sounded petulant and bratty, and Thor gave her one good thrust in response. She moaned irritatedly. “Please!” 

“Oh baby. I know you can do better.” He taunted, beginning to withdraw. Her hands fisted in his shirt as she fought to stop him. 

“No, please. Please, Thor. Please make me cum. I need it so bad, please,” Her voice was breathless. She hated how  _ true _ it was, how badly she wanted him to fuck her until she couldn’t see straight—

“Good girl.” He thrust in hard, his cock punishing her walls with almost bruising intensity, as Patricia practically sobbed from relief.  _ Good girl _ . His voice sent tingles down her spine, and if she wasn’t careful, she knew she’d do just about anything to hear him purr it at her again in that deep baritone. As though he could read her mind, Thor leaned down to lave his tongue across her lips. “Good girl.” 

This time, the tension building to feverish intensity in her belly snapped, catapulting Patricia straight forward into her release. She cried out, uncaring when her grasping fingers tore his shirt open and left red welts on his flesh. Patricia stared up at him unseeing as he continued, curses falling from his perfect mouth. 

_ “God fucking damn it—Gonna make me—” _ A deep growl rumbled out of his chest as he bent over her. Thor held Patricia’s shaking hips still with a single hand as he braced himself against the table, fucking her with complete abandon. A guttural cry escaped him as his hips stuttered against hers, and warm, wet heat blossomed inside of her. 

They stayed like that for a while, Patricia’s pounding heart slowly returning to normal as Thor rested his forehead against her own. The air around them reeked of sex, and as she returned to herself, Patty could feel their combined slick leaking out where they were still joined. After a few more minutes pinned underneath him, she shifted, clearing her throat. 

“Thor…” 

With what seemed like great effort, he pushed himself off of her, and tucked himself back into his pants, though he didn’t button them. She wasn’t sure what to make of his expression either, as he stared at the picture she made; sitting practically spread eagled on the island countertop, his cum leaking out of her. She closed her legs primly, pulling down her dress with shaky hands. 

“Can I use your shower?”

— —

Thor tossed and turned all night after Patricia went home. He normally slept fantastically after a good romp; and not even the gods themselves could rouse him. But that night, he slept restlessly, every sound waking him from his irritatingly light slumber. 

He wasn’t sure what had driven him to…  _ possess _ her like that, but he wasn’t going to complain, not when all it had taken was just a  _ little _ prodding, and Patricia fell apart for him. Thor was used to getting what he wanted—as long as he played by the rules, everything he could want for came to him before he even had to ask. The fact that every tiny thing was an argument with Patricia—when clearly he knew better—drove him up a blasted  _ wall. _ It was clear he would be the better provider of the two. Patty had done what she could without his help, of course, but now that he was aware of Amelia’s existence… no child of his would live in less than a three bedroom apartment in a five star neighborhood. 

He grimaced when he remembered where Natasha had told him they lived— _ Canarsie. _ He’d been surrounded by abundance his entire life. Conditional, certainly, but easy enough to maintain. That was one of the reasons he and Patricia were so… incompatible—where he saw abundance, she saw overindulgence. He’d seen the sneer on her pretty face as she regarded his apartment once again. It made him feel snubbed—Thor had grown used to people regarding his wealth and pedigree first and foremost with awe and envy, and his actions tertiarily at best. But for Patricia, that was what mattered most. Not his name, but what he did.

It irked him. 

Thor’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, lighting up the entire room. He groaned, rolling over. It couldn’t have been past six—the bedroom was barely bright enough to see his hand in front of his face.  _ Who the fuck is calling me? _

“What?” Thor answered crankily, yawning. 

“Is that any way to greet your father?” At the sound of Odin’s voice, Thor’s eyes snapped open, and he gripped the phone tighter. “We missed you at the merger meeting.” Thor might not have been as clever as Loki, but he knew where this was going. 

“I had to get some more work done—”

“Chasing whores doesn’t count as work.” Odin snapped, and Thor could hear the irritation in his father’s voice. It was funny, no matter how old he got, his father’s ire still made him feel like a boy again. “Loki is coming in this morning to finish everything up. I expect you’ll be here.” Thor knew this was a warning—an olive branch. His decision to confront Patricia had had consequences, ones it seemed Odin was bent on delivering. 

Even Loki had said that their father’s mood had been...somewhat less than stellar that evening, asking after Thor and his whereabouts. And of course, because he’d told Loki less than nothing, his poor brother had had all but nothing to tell the old fuck. 

“Of course.” 

The line went dead after that, and Thor had to resist the urge to send his phone sailing through the sliding glass doors that led to the balcony.  _ I’m not getting back to sleep any time soon. _ He slid out of bed and moved distractedly through his shower and shave routine, lost in thought. Patricia had admitted that Amelia was his— _ as I knew from the beginning _ , he thought to himself smugly—so now he needed to set about making good on his end of the rather skewed bargain he’d forced the mother of his child into. 

Thor could admit that he was being petty— _ perhaps cruel— _ but he justified it with the thought that what she’d kept from him was far, far worse. He’d never thought about being a father until then. In abstract ways, he had, of course assumed that he would have children. But at thirty five, he wasn’t even in a serious relationship, let alone in any place to become anyone’s caretaker. 

But here was Amelia anyway, a stray bullet he couldn’t have accounted for. He could hear Loki’s mocking voice now.  _ That’s the trouble with the younger ones, brother.  _ He’d say.  _ Never can be sure they’re on top of things. _ It wasn’t like Thor had produced a condom either. He’d assumed she’d be on birth control—weren’t most women nowadays? And that assumption had cost him. He knew, logically, it wasn’t fair to punish her for that, but it didn’t stop the bitter doubt from creeping into his mind, giving voice to his silent fears—his  _ father’s _ voice. 

_ What if she’s just here for money? If she won a paternity suit she could take everything from me… _ And it wouldn’t just be his possessions. His father would brand him a disgrace—disown him. The old man had made good on the threat before, ousting anyone who threatened the family name. Thor swallowed thickly at the thought of it, before shaking his head and squaring his shoulders. That was  _ precisely _ why he needed to keep Patricia in check. 

In check, and under thumb. 

He exited his bedroom into the hallway, and stopped in front of the furthest of the doors. This room was completely unfurnished. It had  _ used _ to be Loki’s room, when he stayed with him—he’d tested their father one too many times, and had had to weather the fallout before Odin would allow him back into the family’s warm embrace. 

It would make a good room for Amelia. 

He glanced back at the other bedroom, remembering Patricia’s words from the night before, and a scowl found its way onto his face. 

No next time indeed. 

Her perfume was still lingering in the air, along with the faint scent of sex—and as easily as the memory of her had brought a frown to his handsome features, it brought too a wicked grin that erased it easily. Now  _ that _ had been fun. He’d needed that, and  _ fuck _ if she hadn’t been perfect. She’d refused to stay for longer than the time it took to shower. Thor offered to call her a cab, but Patricia had politely refused, skirting his still hungry hands with a plastic smile. 

_ I’ve really got to get back to Amelia. I’ll be in touch about… everything else. _

And then she’d left.

Thor wasn’t sure how to feel. On one hand, it was nice to have the apartment to himself—he knew he should savor it. But on the other, that niggling concern that he needed to keep a constant eye on Patricia returned with full force the moment she was out of his sight. He knew, of course that it was an illogical fear, but that didn’t stop it from gnawing at him. 

The elevator dinged, and an older woman in a blue jumpsuit stepped out. She made it almost all the way into the kitchen before she noticed Thor, and jumped. 

“AH! Oh, Mr. Odinson, it’s you. You nearly killed me.” She said accusingly, setting her bucket of supplies down on one of the kitchen counters. “Since when are you up so early?” Paula came early three times a week to do the cleaning, and most of the time he rarely saw her—she was usually knee deep in a task by the time Thor managed to stumble out of bed and get to the office. 

“Since today, apparently.” Thor groused bad naturedly. Loki could only delay Odin for so long, and he knew he would need to be at the office bright and early to discuss some of the more  _ sensitive _ parts of this merger.  _ And to let Odin torment me until he’s satisfied. _

There wasn’t much traffic when he left the house an hour or so later, and parking in the garage was easy to find. Loki was waiting for him of course, leaned against his own vehicle as he watched him park. Thor slammed the door of his Jag shut with more force than necessary, glowering right back at his sibling. 

“What’s got you so miserable?” Thor snapped. “I’m the one getting raked over the coals today, if you hadn’t gotten the email.” Loki simply rolled his eyes at his brother’s outburst—it was far from the first time he’d seen him so prickly. 

“And here I was expecting some measure of gratitude,” Loki drawled, his long fingers toying idly with the slim, silver pen he kept in his pocket. “‘Thank you, Loki, for keeping my ass out of the fire with our progenitor’, would be a good place to start.” 

“Would it?” Thor asked, rolling his eyes as they headed for the elevator out of the parking garage. 

“You know father better than I do.” Loki said easily. “It was either this meeting or your inheritance.” 

Thor’s dark expression deepened. Missing the meeting with Stark and the other investors was turning out to be a bigger problem than he’d planned. Of course, that was  _ always _ his problem—lack of foresight. “Hopefully he’ll be so pleased to see me groveling that he’ll fuck off for another few years until he croaks.” Thor replied venomously, and Loki laughed. 

“Oh, come on. No spare affection for daddy dearest?” 

The elevator dinged as they reached their destination. The receptionist wasn’t even in yet, and most of the offices were still dark. The big conference room on the 38th floor, however, was lit bright as daylight when they entered. At the head of the table, of course, was Odin. 

_ Old one-eye himself.  _

His father was still a mountain of a man, even in his old age. When he was younger, Thor could remember thinking his father would live forever simply by force of will alone—not even the reaper would dare set foot in Odin Borrson’s home without having been invited first. He could feel the weight of the old man’s gaze on him instantly, and suddenly he was fifteen again. Loki, always the better actor, smiled graciously and inclined his head respectfully. Odin ignored him. 

“Look what the cat dragged in,” He said chuckling, though there was no humor in it. He waved his hand, motioning for them to sit. Thor wasn’t sure what to expect from this. The last time he’d called this kind of meeting, it was after… Thor grimaced. “I must say, I was expecting another disappearing act.” 

No matter how old he got, Odin’s disappointed tirades still felt torturous. He wasn’t like Loki—capable of groveling as his thoughts roamed elsewhere. The look on his father’s face was one he knew well.  _ Disappointment. _

“I was taking care of something.” Thor replied lowly, his hands clenched into fists under the table. He could feel his little brother’s eyes on him, flying back and forth between the two of them. He was probably preparing to intervene, lesson the tension—but Odin didn’t give him the opportunity. 

“If it wasn’t Mjolnir’s merger with Stark Industries, it couldn’t have been particularly important.” He spat dismissively. “Now. They’re hedging on the percentages—Stark thinks they should be getting  _ more _ .” The old man scoffed and muttered. “More of the profits—as if he needs them. We need to give them something—just not that.” 

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose, annoyance and guilt written on his features. Thor had missed that tidbit—he cut his eyes at his brother. His father was looking at him expectantly, and he swallowed. 

“What if we gave them a larger upfront percentage in exchange for more of the long-term residuals?” Thor said slowly. Stark made weapons—and he wanted  _ their _ tech to do it with. If they took  _ less _ of the defense contract money when the deal inevitably came through, and negotiated for a larger percentage of the residuals, it would be worth more in the end. He chanced a glance at his father, whose stoic face was unreadable for a few heartbeats before he nodded. 

“Do it.” 

Some of the tension disappeared from the room, though Thor still found himself on edge. His father had sprung that on him as a test—one he’d barely passed. He was older than Loki, more experienced, but that wouldn’t stop his father from giving his younger brother  _ everything _ just to ruin him. 

Finally at midmorning, Odin sat back in his chair, satisfied. “Things should go well at the next negotiation. Make sure you attend this time, Thor.” His voice was light, but that didn’t mean there was no threat in it. Thor nodded. 

“Of course.” The double doors to the conference room opened, and Thor found himself grinning in spite of his foul mood. “Rogers.” 

The other man gave a small salute with two fingers—their CFO, Steve Rogers. He was carrying a stack of papers thicker than his arm, and hefted them in place of a wave. “Good morning.” He bowed his head a little at Odin, who inclined his own in return. “Sorry to interrupt, but I assumed this was about the Stark merger. They just faxed over a renegotiated list of demands, in accordance with the meeting. Figured you’d want to see these first thing.” 

“Give them to Thor. He’ll be in charge of negotiations from here on out, so he’ll need to read those before anyone else.” The test, it seemed, hadn’t concluded yet. Thor had been treading water successfully for a long time, but it seemed missing last week’s meeting had planted the seed in his father’s mind that he wasn’t ready for control of Mjolnir—a seed that was starting to sprout. He swallowed thickly. Denying this responsibility, or shirking it onto Loki would only result in that sprig of doubt bearing fruit—which would result in something  _ far _ worse. 

Steve read the tension in the air, and let out a small, nervous laugh before placing the stack in front of Thor somewhat apologetically. “Hope it’s light reading,” He said, before speeding out of the room. Thor wished he could follow. He enjoyed his wealth and privilege as much as he could—and as often as his schedule allowed, which was  _ often _ . But he found himself thinking of Patricia in that moment—how  _ free _ she was. 

The jealousy he felt surprised him—but it was nothing in comparison to the fierce and sudden urge to possess her again, feel that fire bend to his will. He was more than thankful when their father took leave of them, leaving him alone with Loki.

“That was quick thinking. I’m honestly surprised your neanderthal brain could move that fast,” He replied dryly, and Thor scowled at him. 

“You’re not the only clever one in the family,” he sniffed. 

“Well then. I suppose you’d better put that cleverness to use and get started on that,” Loki said, gesturing at the novel that Rogers had dropped in front of him. While this was better than previous consequences for infractions, it was no less irritating. His father had sent a clear message, one that Thor had successfully decoded. 

“I hate homework.” He muttered, before gathering the papers to his chest and making for his office. He wasn’t sure if Odin was still in the building, but it would be bad form to leave right after the meeting regardless. He didn’t want news of his departure reaching his father’s discerning ear either, so he made his peace with moping inside the office all day. Though boring, it was certainly worth the read to slog through the new demands—it would only make his proposal better. 

It was, however, hard to stay focused on his work when he kept imagining sweeping everything off of his desk and sinking into Patricia there. She was so tiny, she could probably sit in his lap and sink down  _ slow— _

He groaned in frustration, resting his head in his hands as he threw the papers he’d been struggling to read back down onto the desk. Her spitefully timed words rang in his ears again— _ There won’t be a next time.  _

_ I hate you. _

Thor clenched his jaw. Women—women of far higher status, from better families to boot—would shoot each other in the foot for the chance to wear his ring, and here was Patricia  _ fucking _ Hodgins, turning her little nose up at him. It both incensed, and aroused him, and he longed to put her in her place, but he knew she’d fight him tooth and nail. He fished his phone out of his pocket, and flicked open his messenger app with a tap of his finger. 

_ T: Come to the office. Wear something… nice. _

Thor wasn’t particularly patient, nor was he fond of playing the long con either, and since he couldn’t have Patricia, he was perfectly willing to make due with a substitute. 

For now. 

It didn’t take her long to arrive, either. It wasn’t the first time he’d summoned her here, either. But as an heiress with no job and little responsibilities, it wasn’t as though she was dropping anything important to cater to him. She knocked on the office door almost timidly, and when she opened it, Thor couldn’t help the displeased grimace that appeared momentarily on his face. Idunn was tall and busty, wavy blonde hair and bright green eyes, pouty mouth. Before, he’d found her lovely and alluring—fun to romp with. But there was no stirring in him when he looked at her now, a satisfied smile on her pretty lips. 

“I’ve got to admit I’m a little surprised,” She said, closing the door behind her. “You haven’t called in like a week.” A pout appeared on her face. “I thought you got bored with me.” 

_ I did.  _

“I’ve been busy.” He said nonchalantly, not offering her any more explanation than that. He could tell she wasn’t satisfied with that answer, but she didn’t dare ask for more. “Come here.” Thor waited for the snappy retort that didn’t come, and when she draped herself across his lap, his nostrils flared—she smelled wrong. Thor kissed her anyway, and she responded eagerly, whimpering against his mouth as he tore at her cardigan with impatient fingers to reveal the pink lingerie underneath. 

_ I like gold on Patricia’s skin better. _

Thor pulled away from her, leaving Idunn panting, leaned back on his desk where she was seated. It wasn’t enough, having her submit to him  _ so easily _ . She spread her legs, exposing the damp crotch of her panties to his gaze, though Thor paid it no heed. 

“Can you do something for me?” He asked huskily, his fingers twisting her nipples through the sheer lace as they traveled down her body. 

She nodded hurriedly. “Anything.” 

He pulled aside her panties and tugged her hips forward before going for his own zipper. “Tell me you hate me.” He pushed against her entrance, and she gave a shrill little moan, before looking at him questioningly. 

“What? Thor, that’s—” He cocked his head at her, and she swallowed, cowed. “I—um, I hate you.” She repeated it unconvincingly as he pushed inside. She didn’t like when he was rough with her, and often complained that he wasn’t mindful enough of her, though it never stopped her from finding her way into his bed nonetheless. She whined, bucking her hips at him. “Oh—! Thor—”

“Say it again.” He growled, his hands tightening on her hips. “Say it!” 

“Ah! I hate you!” She cried, a pout forming on her pretty mouth as he bucked up into her harder, faster. “I hate you!” He could almost hear Patty in it that time, Her voice carrying just a hint of sincerity. Thor wasn’t thinking about the woman below him as he sank into her over and over, her nails scoring little red lines on his back. His mind was fixed on the night before, on the very  _ last _ person who would be willing to do this with him. 

She still wasn’t Patricia, but it was enough to send him over the edge, pulling out of her as he spurted hot jets of cum across her soft belly. Idunn squealed with displeasure. 

“Hey! This is Fenty!” She cried, smacking at his shoulders. Thor panted, falling back into his chair. “You’ve never asked me for that before,” Idunn replied as she cleaned herself off meticulously, cursing as she grabbed a handful of tissues to dab at the mess he’d made. 

He wasn’t sure what to say—he certainly wasn’t going to explain that he’d been thinking about fucking the mother of his child the whole time, and that he’d needed that verbal cue to even be able to cum in her—no. 

“So it was new.” He snapped, effectively shutting the conversation down. He let Idunn hang around the office for a while, though he quickly grew tired of her wheedling. Her father, of course, was one of Odin’s many business partners, which was why he generally turned a blind eye when Thor called her in for some… afternoon relief. He knew, of course, that the old man intended to have the two of them tie the knot at some point, and Thor couldn’t help the shiver of disgust that ran through him at the thought. 

Especially now. 

_ Amelia certainly complicates things. _

He doubted Idunn would stand for him tending to Patricia and Amelia on the side—though in a perfect world that would be the ideal scenario. At the end of his workday, Thor dismissed Idunn. For her part, she knew the social politics of her position, and played them to her advantage. He wondered if she would pursue Loki after him, though he doubted his brother would go for sloppy seconds. 

He’d been checking his phone all day, and had heard nothing from Patricia. Was she packing? When would she move? He growled frustratedly as he headed down to the garage. Thor  _ hated _ not knowing, not having access to every minute detail. And to make matters worse, even though he’d tried to keep an eye out for her—it wasn’t a difficult task to have the security team watch the entrances—but she’d slipped by them. 

He started his car, grimacing. This week was turning out to be complete shit. 

— —-

“You’re… you’re not serious.” America’s eyebrows were practically in her hairline, and Wanda snorted. 

“That’s what I said.” 

“It’s gotta be illegal. He can’t force you to move in with him, that’s crazy. And you’re even crazier for doing it!” She chastised, and Patricia winced. 

“He’s got lawyers out the goddamn ass,” She retorted, frowning at her computer screen. “I’m pretty sure he’s got a case. No matter how much of an ass he is.” It had been her weekly ritual to skype with America with Wanda ever since she’d moved away, and they hadn’t broken the habit yet. Amelia was already in bed, and Wanda had brought over some foul tasting rum, which they were now drinking. 

Patty relished the burn as it settled warmly in her belly. It had been four days since she’d last seen Thor, and she wondered how long she could keep her good luck going. It wasn’t like him to be so quiet, and she found herself panicking about what he might have up his sleeve. Would she get hit with another suit? A custody battle? It had already been hard enough explaining to Amelia why they had to leave their new house so soon—and the landlord had been even less pleased, though she’d understood when Patricia had added a healthily edited version of events. 

“He wants to pretend to be a dad? I give it two months before he’s begging us to move out again.” She snapped. 

“Lucky for him Melly’s not in diapers anymore. Fuck did that kid lay some stinkers,” Wanda shuddered. “That would have  _ really _ been a test of his mettle.” 

The idea of Thor changing dirty diapers brought a small smile to Patricia’s face, and she giggled. She hadn’t told either of them everything that had happened at their… meeting, though she had a feeling Wanda somehow knew anyway. Her face warmed at the thought before she shook herself.  _ No. Bad Patty. Thor evil.  _

“Alright, ladies. As much as I love our talks, I’ve gotta head back to the house before I get too drunk to get on the right train,” Wanda replied, picking herself back up off of Patricia’s bedroom floor. “I’m gonna head out.” 

“Me too,” America said, yawning. “Tell Melly belly I said hi.” 

The call ended, and Patricia yawned herself, stretching. Wanda kicked a box, and shook her head. “I’ll be by this week to help. Again.” She narrowed her eyes at Patricia. “This better not turn into some Ike and Tina Turner crap,” She snapped, pointing at Patricia. “Because I will murder him  _ so fast—” _

“It’s not,” Patricia snapped. “Look. I may… not have made the right choice in not telling him. If he’s a piece of shit, I won’t risk Amelia. You know that.” Patricia pushed a lock of hair out of her face. “It’s better than losing her.” 

Wanda nodded, unable to disagree. Patricia hugged her friend, and locked the door behind her as she left. It was already past ten, and Patricia sluggishly picked her things up off of the floor, and began getting ready for bed. This week had been hell—so busy she could barely think straight. And that wasn’t even including the dark cloud Thor had left hanging over her head. Patricia was getting water from the tap when the doorbell buzzed loudly. She dropped the glass, cursing as it shattered in the sink. 

“Goddammit, Wanda.” Maybe she’d forgotten something—she was always leaving things whenever she dropped by.  _ Probably her house keys. _ Patricia pulled the door open without checking the peephole, and paid for it dearly when Thor’s bukly frame filled her doorway. 

“Hi, Patty.” His husky voice made her pulse quicken, and she had to fight to keep herself from slamming the door in his face. 

“Wh-what are you doing here?” She asked, peeking into the hallway around him. He was alone. “It’s almost eleven at night, you can’t just—”

“Are you going to let me in?” He intoned, quirking an eyebrow at her.  _ I’m beginning to hate that, _ she thought grimly, before sighing and allowing him inside. Her arm flew out as he passed the threshold, stopping him. 

“Shoes off.” 

“Hmm.”

He closed the door behind himself, and Patty ushered him into the kitchen. “Why are you here? It’s so late.” She couldn’t help the irritated whine that colored her voice. He was the last person Patricia was expecting to see—the last person she  _ wanted _ to see. 

“I’m off tomorrow, so I thought I could help you pack.” He replied smoothly. “I thought we could start early.”

“And you thought you could come here in the middle of the night to, what, exactly?” She asked, heading for the sink and beginning to pick up the shards of the glass she’d broken. He’d been quiet for days, only to show up randomly in the middle of the night. She could only guess that he’d grown tired of her radio silence, and was taking matters into his own hands. Suddenly, one of the sharp edges bit into her palm. Patricia cursed loudly, jumping away from the sink as the large piece she was holding fell to the floor this time, shattering into even smaller fragments. “Goddammit!”

“Are you alright?” He asked, rising to his feet from the table. Patricia tried to wave him away, holding up her hands. 

“Stop! There’s glass all over the floor, and—”

“Mommy?” Amelia’s tired voice interrupted their conversation. She was standing in her pajamas, holding her stuffed rabbit by the ear as she rubbed at her eyes with her tiny fist. Her hair was a mess—the scarf Patricia had carefully tied down had obviously come off in the night, and her kinky curls were sticking every which way as she stared up at her mother with watery eyes. 

“I’m so sorry baby, did that wake you up?” She asked turning back to the sink to hide her bloody hands. Amelia nodded. 

“It loud, mommy.” 

“I’m sorry babes. No, no, you have to stay there. Mommy broke a glass,” She explained, stopping her from coming closer. Amelia pouted as large tears began to well up. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” Amelia seemed to notice Thor then, and the tired temper tantrum that had been building seemed to dissipate as she looked at him curiously. 

“Mommy who dis?” She pointed at Thor. “Why him here?” 

“Remember when we met Mommy’s friend?” Patricia responded, turning on the water to wash off her hands. “You met him before.”

Thor squatted down and waved at Amelia, a small smile gracing his handsome mouth. “I’m Thor, remember?” 

“Door.” She repeated, nodding decisively. Patricia turned to him. 

“Can you take her in the living room so I can clean up, please?” 

He looked irritated at first, as though he wanted to complain, and Patricia scoffed. “Weren’t you  _ just _ complaining that I keep her from you? I’ll be in there in a minute, I just don’t want her to get cut.” Patricia turned back to the sink, and began piling all the pieces she could see. Thor moved forward and reached out to take Amelia’s hand. “Why don’t you go show him your ponies, Mels?” She asked, and Amelia squealed with delight, her previous sleepiness forgotten.

As she picked up the glass, Patricia couldn’t help straining her ears to listen for any sign of trouble—but there was nothing. She could barely hear the quiet murmur of their voices, and the occasional peal of laughter from Amelia. 

After sweeping the kitchen thoroughly, Patricia padded down the hallway to the bathroom for a bandage. It was probably Thor ringing the doorbell that had woken Amelia, but her cursing probably hadn’t helped much either. After bandaging up her hand, Patricia found them in Amelia’s room.

She was busily rushing about, pulling out all of her favorite toys and books, while Thor stared helplessly. “I like dis one,” She held up the very hungry caterpillar, and pushed it expectantly into Thor’s large hands. 

“Y-you want me to read to you?” He asked somewhat incredulously. Patricia heard him swallow thickly, rubbing a nervous hand down the back of his neck. He turned, and without thinking, Patricia stepped back into the hallway, hiding just behind the doorframe. She’d been about to announce her presence anyway, but part of her wanted to see. Wanted to see him interact with Amelia without her around. She peeked through the crack in the door, watching. 

He grumbled something under his breath, and allowed Amelia to pull him toward her story corner—an overlarge beanbag where she and Patricia often snuggled up to read together. It was a holdover from their time at her parent’s house—something familiar. She’d make sure to bring it to Thor’s too. It would be good for Amelia to have something that was the same. 

Thor, of course, was almost too big for the bean bag, and had to pull his legs up awkwardly while Patricia giggled silently. 

“The… Very Hungry Caterpillar.” He began, his tone just as awkward as his posture. It was… cute. She didn’t like him, didn’t want him around, but, this was… kind of nice. Amelia wasn’t yet at the age where she questioned why her family wasn’t like others, but Patricia knew that time was coming. Perhaps it wouldn’t be all bad to let him be part of Amelia’s life. Patricia stepped in at the end, and cleared her throat. Thor looked up from the book, his cheeks red. 

“You’ve conned him into reading to you, I see.” She addressed Amelia sternly, who looked guiltily up at her mother. “It’s late, little girl, and you should be in bed.” She chastised, coming over to scoop Amelia’s wriggling form up. “I hope you enjoyed your story, what do you say?” 

“Thank you, Door.” She replied dutifully, and clamored into bed. Patricia sat on the edge of the bed, before looking up at Thor. 

“Can you wait for me in the living room? I’m just going to stay for a bit, make sure she falls asleep.” She could see the displeasure crossing his handsome features, and as he opened his mouth to argue, she held up a hand. “I’m just making sure she falls asleep.” She repeated. “Thor.” 

He grimaced, but left the room, and Patricia breathed a sigh of relief. “Mommy, why him here?” Amelia asked again, her little voice suspicious. Patty wasn’t sure how to answer.  _ He’s your father. _ “He… he’s helping us move. It’s his house we’re going to. It’s a big house, Melly. You’ll like it.” 

Amelia seemed unconvinced, but laid down anyway. She tossed fretfully for a few minutes, before settling down. Patricia stayed until her breaths were slow and even before crawling out of bed, and tiptoeing over to the door. The living room was empty when she got there, and Patricia breathed a sigh of relief. Had he left? Perhaps he’d gotten tired of waiting. She flicked off the lights, and headed for her own bedroom—nearly shrieking in surprise to find Thor sat on her bed. 

“Jesus! What—this isn’t the living room, in case you were confused.” She snapped, sighing. “So. You’re here because…?” She trailed off, looking at him expectantly. Thor rolled his eyes irritatedly. 

“I wanted to check in.” He said, as though stating the obvious. 

“And you… lost my number?” She quirked an eyebrow. 

“You’ve been avoiding me, Patty.” He deadpanned, as though daring her to disagree. She wanted to, and in fact opened her mouth to do so, but he leveled a harsh look at her, and her mouth snapped shut again. “It’s been almost a full week since we agreed, and I haven’t heard a peep from you.” 

It suddenly wasn’t lost on Patricia that they were alone in her bedroom. Perhaps Amelia sleeping lightly just next door would keep him respectful, but she had her doubts. 

“I’ve been busy,” She snapped defensively. “It’s not like I’ve got a million free hours a day.” Patricia couldn’t keep the accusing tone from her voice.  _ Like you. _ “I have an entire child I’ve got to take care of.” That seemed to shut him up, and Thor grimaced, chastened. “Look. It’s late. I’m tired. And we have a lot of packing to do tomorrow.”

Thor nodded, and stood, stretching. Patricia assumed he would go take up residence on the couch until the morning—and looking back on it, the ease with which he’d barged into her apartment should have been an adequate warning sign of things to come. Thor stripped his shirt off easily, and slid his slacks down his muscular thighs before turning to Patricia, whose mouth was suddenly dry. 

“What-what are you—”

“Am I not sleeping here?” He asked incredulously, his expression smug. 

“I—well, the couch—” He was doing it again. He was manipulating her, using her outrage against her. Patricia knew what was happening, but amazingly was still powerless to stop it. 

“And how would that affect Amelia?” He asked leadingly, knowing that Patricia wouldn’t want her waking up to a strange man in the house if she could help it.  _ Damn it! _

“You can sleep on the floor then.” She tried, and he laughed. Fucking  _ laughed _ , a deep, belly laugh that reverberated in her chest. He was sitting on her bed, and though he looked displeased at his surroundings, he was getting ready to settle in. It had been so long since she’d been with anyone who made her  _ feel _ anything. If she was being honest with herself, Patricia…wasn’t sure she had the strength to resist him. She’d tried last time she saw him, and look how well that had turned out. She swallowed nervously.

“You’re not serious.” He intoned, crawling up towards the head of the bed. The sight of his muscled chest, dusted with fine blond hair trimmed perfectly, and a happy trail leading down to—She tore her eyes away.  _ No. _

“I don’t want to have sex with you Thor.” She said harshly. “I don’t want to be talked into it, I don’t want to do anything but sleep.” He pulled back, and held his hands up. 

“We’ll sleep. I promise.” Patty didn’t think she could trust Thor as far as she could throw him, but he did seem to be being honest. 

“Okay.”

She’d rarely ever slept next to anyone aside from Amelia—Patricia hadn’t had any long term relationships. She wasn’t used to anyone larger than her daughter being in bed with her, and when she turned off the light, and turned over, she was greeted with the sight of his chest once again, and the feel of his arm encircling her waist. She squeaked. It wasn’t uncomfortable—on the contrary, it felt  _ too _ good. 

She wanted to melt into floorboards. 

“I’m not doing anything,” he rumbled, pulling her closer. Somehow this felt… more intimate. He’d been inside of her—they had a  _ child— _ and yet his arms around her, her face pressed against his bare skin, this was more personal than that ever was. He was true to his word, however, and Patricia found herself falling asleep against him. 

She couldn’t help it—he was so  _ warm _ , and his skin was surprisingly smooth and soft—under the hair. Patty knew she was going to hate herself in the morning for allowing this, for enjoying it, but… She let her body relax against his and closed her eyes. Patricia could feel his breath puffing softly against her forehead, and the rhythm of his steady heartbeat soon filled her ears as she drifted off. 

She didn’t hear him sigh contentedly, or mumble goodnight against her hair. Nor did she feel his arms tighten around her, fitting her all the way into the hollow of his body. 

—

Patricia wasn’t sure when Amelia had crawled into bed with them. It was a fairly normal occurrence for her, of course—she was only three after all, and she’d only been sleeping in her own bed for a few months at most. Patricia would bring her into her own bed when she woke up crying, and failing that, Amelia would creep in on her own and stick her tiny, icy feet between Patty’s thighs. 

It was the fist that woke her up, though. The tiny appendage crashing into the side of Patricia’s head made her cry out and sit up with a start. She looked around wildly, before the hurt look melted off of her face. Amelia had snuck in again, wedging herself between Thor and Patricia. She was snoring lightly, her messy hair having come out of the bonnet yet again. 

Her daughter was practically horizontal, her head resting on Patty’s torso. She’d flung her arm out in her sleep, clocking Patricia in the process. Her feet were— _ Oh my God— _ on Thor’s face, who was, for his part, still deeply asleep. It would have been funnier had Patricia herself not been a victim of Amelia’s wild sleeping habits, but it was enough to make her snicker. 

_ Serves him right. _

Her leg twitched, and her little toes pushed against the bridge of Thor’s nose. He groaned, shifting. When that didn’t ease the sensation, he cracked open one irritated eye. 

“She kicked me.” He rasped, reaching up to gently move his daughter’s foot from his face. 

“Not as hard as she punched me.” Patricia whispered. She gathered Amelia’s wayward limbs with practiced ease, ignoring her tired grumbling as she held her to her chest, smoothing her hair, and began gently rocking her back to sleep. It was still early, daylight barely filtering in through the large window in the corner. 

“Does she do this… a lot?” He asked, and Patricia wasn’t sure whether to be amused or annoyed by the sleepy irritation in his voice. 

“She’s three years old, Thor. Of course she does this a lot.” She rolled her eyes. His lack of experience with children was becoming more and more apparent. And though Patricia  _ had _ had every intention of letting him co-parent, an angry, protective feeling was roaring in her skull. He didn’t know  _ anything _ . Would it ever be safe to leave Amelia alone with him? Thor didn’t know the first thing about childcare, how could she trust him? 

When Amelia was snoring softly again, she laid her down on the bed, and glared at Thor, crossing her arms. “I’m confused, isn’t this what you expected?” She raised an eyebrow of her own. He didn’t answer, and Patricia laid back down next to Amelia, wrapping her arms around her daughter. 

“I don’t know what I expected.” 

His voice was so soft she wasn’t even sure she heard it—had she imagined that uncharacteristically self-aware utterance? Patricia almost asked him to repeat himself, but she didn’t feel like putting Amelia down a third time, and stayed silent. 

She woke again a few hours later, only to find her bed empty. Neither Thor, nor Amelia was anywhere to be seen. Patricia hopped quickly out of bed, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood floors as she went room to room, looking. Amelia wasn’t in her own room, nor the kitchen, living room, or bathroom. Neither was Thor, his bulky form notably absent. 

Panic rose in her chest. 

_ Do I call the police? He’s her father, after all… _ She was pacing in the living room when the front door finally opened. Patty was speeding towards the entryway before she even realized her legs were moving. Her robe tangled around her legs as she threw herself into the hallway in time to see Amelia and Thor holding takeout bags. Amelia was looking up at Thor, her big blue eyes wide with delight. 

“—is for Mommy!” She was saying, brandishing the bag she was holding. It was small, but still a bit big for her, and the contents slid dangerously inside the bag. 

“Yes, and for you,” Thor replied, backing in behind her. He hooked the door with one foot, and pushed it shut before turning to see Patricia, wild eyed and staring at them. She rushed forward, snatching the bag from Amelia’s hands. 

“Where were you?!” She asked, kneeling and stroking her daughters face and hair, turning her head this way and that, inspecting her. “Where did he take you?” She looked up at Thor accusingly, rage beginning to cloud her thoughts.  _ How dare he? How  _ **_dare_ ** _ he?  _ The thought repeated over and over in Patricia’s mind. Amelia was  _ her _ daughter.  _ Patricia _ had birthed her, raised her,  _ loved her _ , and now here was Thor just barging in, making decisions.

Taking  _ her _ child without notice, or permission. 

Thor could see her seething. “I wanted to get breakfast. Amelia woke up, and I didn’t want to leave her here alone. You seemed overworked.” Patricia narrowed her eyes at his thinly veiled jab before looking back down at Amelia, her expression softening. 

“Door got pancapes, Mommy!” She said excitedly, pointing at the bag Patricia had set down next to them. Patricia sighed heavily. She was still angry, but it wouldn’t do to have it out in front of Amelia, who still looked overwhelmingly excited, and was bouncing on her toes impatiently. Patricia rose to her feet, and took the bag with her. Amelia had obviously been allowed to dress herself—she was wearing her black and orange halloween tutu, along with her rain boots, pink leggings, and her purple  _ Girls Rock!  _ T-shirt that her grandmother had given her last Christmas. 

He’d at least tried to tame her hair, though it was clear he hadn’t known which of her hair products to use, if he’d used any. Amelia’s curly hair was pulled back into a haphazard pony-puff, and the hair tie sprung loose as she bounced, flying off into a corner. Patricia laughed in spite of herself, and scrubbed a hand down her face. 

“Let’s get this to the kitchen.” She hefted the bag, and Amelia chattered excitedly next to her as they walked, but Patricia could still feel Thor’s eyes on her, and she could still taste the acid burning on her tongue from the words she longed to let loose. 

Patricia hadn’t unpacked everything in the kitchen yet, and it was a good thing they were still using the paper plates she’d bought a few weeks before. She set out everything, ignoring Thor’s displeased look at her dinnerware. “I didn’t unpack the boxes with our dishes yet, and now there’s no point.” She said smartly, attempting to nip his criticism in the bud before it even left his lips. 

He helped Amelia take her pancakes out of the box, and put them on her plate. “Hold on, sweets.” Patricia replied, turning to the dishrack to retrieve the small, blunt kiddie cutlery from it. “You have to cut it for her, Thor. She’s little.” 

“I little,” Amelia agreed, wiggling excitedly in her seat. Patty wasn’t sure where Thor had gone for breakfast, but after getting Amelia settled in and fixing her own plate, she had to admit she was glad for it. She  _ had _ been tired, and though part of her wanted to be thankful for his astute observation, the other part of her complained loudly, reminding her that it was  _ his _ fault she was tired in the first place.

He’d also gotten eggs, and some cut fruit, along with thick slices of bacon, and Patricia helped herself to as much of it as she could manage, which was less than half of what Thor greedily polished off. He was like a vacuum, sucking in mouthful after mouthful of food. He  _ was _ massive, though, and Patricia imagined he probably needed as much fuel as possible. It still didn’t make it less awkward to watch him shoveling food into his mouth. 

He was just as awkward around Amelia as he had been every time they interacted—asking her halting questions about her interests that she didn’t really have the words to answer.

“I like ponies,” She said, bits of pancake escaping her mouth as she spoke. “Thems my favorite.” 

“I like horses too,” Thor said gently. “Maybe you can come see them sometime.” Amelia’s eyes got impossibly large at the mention of meeting _real_ _live horses_ , and she threw down her fork. “We have a big farm on Martha’s Vineyard, you’d love it.” 

Amelila whirled on Patricia, pointing at Thor excitedly, as if she hadn’t heard him herself. “Mommy! Door have ponies! We can go see the ponies, mommy? Please?” Patricia narrowed her eyes at Thor, who regarded her with an almost cartoonishly innocent expression. 

“Maybe another time, sweetheart. It’s very far away, we couldn’t go today. It would have to be a special trip that would take lots of planning.” She explained, watching her toddler deflate, frowning. 

“It wouldn’t take all that much,” Thor interjected, and Patricia glared at him, shaking her head, but he continued. “We could go as soon as next weekend if you wanted—”

“Okay!” Patricia interrupted, a forced smile on her face. “Lets talk about this  _ not _ over breakfast, yeah?” She asked, looking pointedly at the man across the table from her. He stuck out like a sore thumb, his expensive clothes and stiff frame in obvious discord with her homey, casual decor and furniture. Now he was getting Amelia all excited with talk of visiting some farm, without any regard to  _ how _ it was going to work. Hell, he’d never even spent a night  _ alone _ with Amelia—a trip was completely out of the question!

Patricia snubbed his help as she cleaned up their breakfasts; she wanted to tell him how inappropriate it was to spring that on her, to get Amelia so excited for something that… might not happen. That was the core of it—here Thor was, appearing suddenly in her life, and making promises that Patty had no idea if he had any intention of keeping. After all, this entire situation had come about because he wanted to keep her under his thumb, make sure she didn’t steal his fortune out from under him with a sob story to a sympathetic judge. The thought made her clench her hands as she tossed their used plates into the trash. 

_ Like I need a damn thing from  _ **_him_ ** . She’d managed to raise her daughter just fine without him so far, and Amelia had never wanted for anything. Amelia helped her clean up, though all it really consisted of was helping her mother ferry plastic cutlery to the trash, and carrying her own sippy cup to the sink. When that was done, Patricia sent her to gorge herself on cartoons, but caught Thor’s wrist _. _

“Hey. I think we need to make a few things clear—” She began, but Thor rounded on her instead, flinging her hand off of his person with a powerful flick of his wrist. 

“Yes, Patricia, I think we should.” Patricia looked up at him wide eyed. She hadn’t been expecting this. And before she could process, he had her pressed against the doorframe, both of his massive hands braced against the wall on either side of her head. “You kept my  _ child _ from me for  _ three years _ , and now you think you get to dictate what I do with her?”

“Sh-She’s not a thing, Thor!” Patricia sputtered, but he continued as though she hadn’t spoken. 

“You’ve been dragging your  _ fucking  _ heels, Patricia, and don’t pretend I don’t know it. You haven’t even told her, have you? She has no  _ fucking idea _ who I am.” He snarled, and she swallowed nervously as the muscles in his arm flexed, tensing and relaxing. At his words, she looked away, embarrassed. It was true. The few times Amelia  _ had _ questioned her about Thor— _ Door— _ she’d brushed her off— _ lied _ , even.

_ He’s mommy’s friend. _

“If you keep this up, I’m going to have quite the case,” He mused, his tone casual, though Patricia easily caught his threat. She shook her head quickly. 

“I’m not! We’re here packing, aren’t we?” Patricia replied, hating the ragged desperation coloring her words. She could never hope to fight him in court if he decided to take it there, that much she knew. “Thor, please don’t—”

He parted her legs with his thigh easily, lowering his head until he could rub his stubbly cheek against her face almost affectionately. “Then stop being so  _ difficult _ , Patricia.” Her robe was partially open, the shoulder hanging down around one of her arms as he pushed up against her. It was hard to think—between the panic she’d just been feeling, and the sudden heat rushing to the apex of her thighs, Patricia let out the smallest of whimpers. 

“Thor. We’re moving in. Isn’t that what you want?” She asked in a small voice, cowed. It had been foolish to think he’d allow her to call the shots—she saw that now. Not when he could hang his lawyers and her daughter in front of her, the carrot and the stick. 

“Good. Let’s get this place packed up.” He tapped her on the tip of her nose, and moved away. Suddenly Patricia could breathe again, and took in a lungful of air before sliding down to the floor, trembling. 

_ He’s such a bully. _

“Whatever we can’t bring with us tomorrow, I assume we’ll have the movers pack up themselves.” He said airily from the living room, and Patricia swallowed the fight that threatened to rear its head in her once again. She’d never once considered hiring movers—She hadn’t wanted to. Patricia clenched her fists. She had to play by his rules—for now. 

“Okay.” 


	5. Rock-a-bye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor’s secret gets out, and Patricia is forced to confront some hard truths.

“Mommy where my room?” Amelia’s excited squeal echoed loudly through the large apartment. She’d kicked her shoes off as soon as they arrived in the penthouse, bouncing excitedly around the open space. Thor had already called the movers—and paid them too. 

He’d meant it when he’d told Patricia he didn’t want any more delays. And when he hadn’t heard from her, he’d decided to go straight to the source. Why argue with Patricia over texts when he could do it in person, staring down her low cut t-shirt as she fought against the inevitable? 

There was little Thor had ever wanted that he hadn’t gotten, whether through privilege, or by simply taking it, and though he couldn’t explain it, he wanted…Patricia. Amelia. And if the only way he could get them was by exploiting Patricia’s fear that he might win a custody battle, Thor wasn’t above doing so.

He’d been so close to fucking her right there in the kitchen—it probably wouldn’t have taken too much more convincing—but his daughter’s riotous giggles made him second guess the urge. Besides, it was better to only push one agenda at a time, and it was clear that having Patricia’s obedience would take more than idle threats. You caught more flies with honey, as the saying went. 

“I don’t know baby. I think upstairs?” She asked, turning to look at Thor, who nodded. 

“Yes. Come on, I’ll show you.” 

Amelia scampered up the stairs, half crawling on her hands and knees. She ran the few feet to the first door, pointing as he came up behind her, eyes wide with excitement. “Dis one?!” He hoped Amelia liked her new room—he’d spent time poring over every furniture catalogue he could get his hands on, and though some things hadn’t come in yet, he was fairly confident that he’d done a good job. 

“Yes, Amelia, this is your room now.” He reached past her to open the door, and Amelia shot inside just as Patricia came up the stairs and rounded the corner. There was a huge bay window on one side, and the stark white walls had been painted a soft yellow, with images of horses running all along it—he knew she liked horses, and had asked specifically for them to be included. The plain light fixture in the center of the ceiling had been replaced with a hanging moon and star. She didn’t have a bed, or furniture set up, though the pieces lay against the wall, waiting to be assembled. 

“This is a nice room, Thor.” Patricia said tightly. He could see she meant it, even if it was grudging. It was substantially larger than the room she’d had in Patricia’s apartment—it was easily double it’s size, with room for a much bigger corner for Amelia’s books and bean bag. The view—which she would only come to appreciate when she was older—was nothing to sneeze at either. The city lay spread out before her like a picture, the fading afternoon sun painting the room even brighter gold And that wasn’t even mentioning the antique rocking horse he'd stationed in one corner, or drivable miniature car in the other. He hadn’t quite been able to curb the urge to shower her with gifts—make up for lost time. 

“You should say thank you, Amelia.” Patricia instructed, sighing with resignation. “Jesus, is that a mini Maserati?” She muttered, cutting her eyes at him. 

“Thank you,” She repeated dutifully. “Mommy, where my books?” She asked, looking around confusedly. Her brows furrowed as she looked between the two of them, waiting for an explanation. 

“They’ll be here tomorrow, with everything else from the old apartment,” Thor answered. He knew, of course, that that meant they would be sleeping with him that night, but he didn’t mind the thought of it quite so much, so long as Patricia kept Amelia’s tiny fists and feet away from his head. Instead of being reassured, Amelia’s face crumpled further as her lip trembled. “You don’t have to worry about them, they’ll be here.” He meant for it to be an assurance, but he could tell it wasn’t taking. 

“But I want them  _ now!”  _ She whined, peering up at him with watery eyes before turning to her mother as though she would get a different answer. “Mommy!”

“They’re on the truck, Mels, like Thor said. Mommy can’t get them. You’re just going to have to be a big girl and get by with the books we have for tonight.” Patricia crouched down and tried to rub a soothing hand across Amelia’s cheek, but it seemed she wouldn’t be deterred, pushing her mother’s hand away fiercely. 

“No, now!” She argued, her voice rising in volume until she was yelling. Patricia knelt in front of her, trying to calm her down, but it appeared too late for that. Thor grimaced. Thus far, all of his interactions with Amelia had been wonderful. She’d been very good on their walk to the store, holding his hand, and chattering at him quicker than he had time to process it. Now, however, her toffee colored cheeks were red with anger, and she rubbed her teary eyes as she stomped her foot. 

“Amelia, enough.” He said sternly, crossing his arms. His voice was loud and authoritative, with the intent of stopping her fit in its tracks. This only served to incense her further, and she burst into tears, wailing loudly as she crumbled to the floor in a tantrum.  _ Oh shit. _ Patricia heaved an exasperated sigh, and glared up at him

“Real nice, Thor.” She muttered, picking the screaming toddler up and cradling her to her chest as she continued to cry and struggle. “Don’t yell at her like that.” She snapped, stroking Amelia’s hair. Thor wanted to interject that he  _ hadn’t _ yelled at her, but he doubted that distinction would matter to his wailing daughter and her irritated mother. 

“She didn’t nap today, we’ve been moving around a lot, it’s no wonder she’s feeling testy.” Patricia explained, rolling her eyes. Thor could tell there were more words she wanted to let loose, scathing ones that would likely set his own temper raging. Her tone made it clear she felt the information she was dispensing was obvious— _ To you, maybe. _ He groused inwardly. 

Amelia whimpered in her arms, and she grimaced. “Where am we sleeping? I’m going to try and put her down for a nap, it’s the only thing that’ll stop this.” She said quietly, and Thor fought the wide grin that threatened to spread across his face. Patricia had requested her own room—a request Thor had  _ not _ fulfilled. 

“Your bed isn’t here yet either.” He replied smoothly, not bothering to keep the smug smirk off of his face. Patricia glared at him, tight lipped and marched past him back out into the hallway, likely heading for his bedroom. Thor couldn’t help but enjoy riling Patty up. He hadn’t changed many things there either, and he saw her stop and roll her eyes at his massive bed before crawling onto it and laying Amelia down. 

Amelia was still sniffling, clinging tightly to her mother as she tried to extricate herself. “Mels, I’m just going to go get your bottle from the bag downstairs—”

“No!” She sobbed, holding tighter. “No, no, mommy!” Patricia looked up at Thor helplessly. Amelia had graduated from attempting to push Patricia away to refusing to let go of her, wailing. 

“Can you get the duffel bag from downstairs, please? I think I have a bottle all made up for her already.” 

“A bottle? Patricia she’s three.” He said disbelievingly. He knew little about child rearing, it was true, but surely three was too old to still be drinking from a bottle, wasn’t it? The vitriol with which Patty was glaring at him, however, spoke otherwise. 

“Yes, Thor.  _ Three. _ ” Her voice carried an air of finality that made Thor bristle, and he opened his mouth to respond—but was cut off by Amelia’s loud sniffle. He turned on his heel and strode out of the room. The bag Patricia had mentioned was sitting by the steps, and upon opening it Thor saw that it was  _ full _ of things for Amelia. Changes of clothes, small toys, snacks, and formula for toddlers. In one of the side pockets, he found a lidded sippy cup containing what he assumed was Amelia’s juice. 

When he returned to his bedroom, Patricia was seated cross-legged in the center of the bed, rocking a still testy Amelia back and forth as she rubbed soothing circles on her back. The toddler eyed him suspiciously as he crawled onto the bed on his knees awkwardly, holding her bottle. “Here, Amelia.” He patted his lap, hoping to entice her into sitting with him while she drank it, but Amelia let out a distrustful little whine and fidgeted. 

“Come on, Mels. Thor went and got your bottle for you, what do we say?” She looked down at the fussy child in her lap. Amelia scowled and threw a frustrated little fist at the bed beside them. “Amelia.” Patricia replied sternly. “What do we say?” 

“...Thank you.” 

“Okay. Now do you want to go sit—” Patricia’s voice was drowned out by an answering wail as Amelia shook her head so hard her hair flew around it wildly.

“No, don’t wanna! No, mommy!” Patricia looked apologetically at Thor, who handed her the bottle without further argument. He couldn’t keep the angry look off of his face, however, and he heard Patricia swallow audibly. Amelia calmed instantly, holding the handles on either side of the bottle as her eyes grew lidded. Patricia continued to rock her slowly, patting her back when she let out a sad little hiccup. 

Thor rose from the bed, his fists clenched tightly. Why? Why would she react so poorly to him? They’d been just fine the other morning when he’d taken her out to help him get breakfast. It just… didn’t make sense. Thor narrowed his eyes as he made his way back downstairs, and over to the liquor cabinet. It was late afternoon, but it wasn’t as though he had anything _ else _ to do. By the time Patricia joined him at the table, he’d downed two glasses of scotch already. 

“Starting early?” She asked snippily as she sat down across from him, her lips pursed with distaste.

“What are you telling Amelia about me?” He asked bluntly. Patricia’s mouth fell open in surprise and she sputtered. “She  _ hates  _ me.” The bitterness he’d been trying unsuccessfully to keep out of his voice dripped steadily from his words. What he wasn’t expecting, was a surprised peal of laughter from Patricia, who quickly clapped a hand over her mouth as her shoulders continued to shake. Thor gripped his glass tighter. “This is amusing to you?” He spat. “We’ll see how amusing it is when my—”

“Yes, Thor, your lawyers.” Patricia snorted. “You’re  _ this _ upset because your daughter had a tantrum? Newsflash, Thor: you’re a  _ stranger. _ ” He bristled at this, but Patricia rolled her eyes and continued. “Amelia  _ doesn’t know you _ . It takes  _ time _ to build that kind of relationship. You can’t buy it,” She replied pointedly. 

Thor took another angry sip of his drink. He knew it was silly to expect her to latch onto him like she clearly did Patricia, but he still couldn’t help the burning jealousy that threatened to overwhelm him. In his mind, it was even  _ less _ fair because Amelia hadn’t had the time or the _ choice _ to get to know him. 

“I’m not telling her bad things about you, Thor.” Patricia said softly, reaching out to touch the back of his hand. “I promise.” He studied her face for a moment, looking for the lie—but found none. He hadn’t realized how much he really wanted her to stare at him with the same adoration until he’d found she didn’t. A

He drained his glass and sighed. “I suppose I just… She’s  _ my _ daughter too,” He replied, somewhat petulantly. Patricia nodded. 

“She is, I’m not denying that.”  _ Any more.  _ “She’ll come around, Thor. You just have to be patient. Amelia’s a sweet kid, I’m sure…” Patty sighed long-sufferingly. “I’m sure she’ll love you in no time.” Surprisingly, Patricia’s platitudes  _ did _ make him feel just a little better. Were it Idunn, she’d be sulking until he bought her something shiny and expensive. Patricia cleared her throat. “Can we talk about my bed?” 

Thor rolled his eyes.  _ Here we fucking go. _ “It’s not here yet.” He lied smoothly, declining to mention the fact that he hadn’t ordered it. It had been  _ nice _ waking up with Patricia and Amelia, and even better to fall asleep with Patty’s body fitted so snugly into the hollow of his own. 

“Thor, please. Let’s not play this game. I can buy it myself if you’re feeling too prickly about it.” Thor furrowed his brow at her jab.

“I can afford a bed for you.” He scoffed. 

“So what, you just don’t want to?” She snapped. “I meant it when I said we should be focusing on Amelia. Isn’t that the whole reason you’re doing all...this?” 

Patricia was  _ half _ right. He  _ did _ want to involve himself in his daughter’s life, and he  _ did _ want to be present for her. At the same time, the virulent desire to punish Patricia for her  _ transgressions _ remained. Along with it, was the strange urge to have her wholly and completely to himself. He understood it about as well as as he cared to—Thor was more in the habit of assuaging his desires than he was into examining them. 

“I’m doing this, Patricia,” he said smoothly, grasping her hand in his own and stroking his large thumb over her knuckles. “Because you  _ owe me.” _ He could see the indignation and anger on her facial features. “Because you  _ took _ something from me that I can never replace.” He would never see Amelia learn to walk, or to talk, there was no amount of money that would rewind the years for him. 

“Thor, I—”

“You what, Patricia?” He asked, bringing her hand up to his lips. He felt her shudder at the contact. 

She snatched her hand from his to point at him accusingly. “Look. I’m not doing this with you, Thor. I said I would come here so that… so that you wouldn’t take her from me, not so that you could make me into a housepet!” Thor gritted his teeth. Brute force had always worked well for him, but he kept butting up against seemingly impenetrable walls when it came to Patricia. It would be much harder to force her hand with Amelia around, he knew. Perhaps it was time to employ the same technique he had with Stark—give just a little, to get a whole lot more. 

He wanted Patricia—wanted her as often as he could have her with as little resistance as possible. 

“Fine.” He’d caught her mid-sentence, and Patricia sputtered, the steam going out of her in her surprise. 

“I—what?” 

“I said fine. I’ll have something here in an hour.” He sent off an irritated text to one of his many “assistants”, instructing them to pick up a queen sized bed from the closest Pottery Barn—it didn’t matter what it looked like, Patricia wouldn’t be using it very long if he had his way. And Thor Odinson  _ usually _ had his way.

“Oh.” She looked at him suspiciously. “Really? I-I can pay for it myself,” She said again, and Thor shook his head. 

“I’ll take care of it. I told you I would, so I will.” Patricia’s trust— _ and her compliance— _ wouldn’t come easily. 

When Clint finally came by with the movers, Patricia was almost as excited as Amelia, bouncing on her toes as they unloaded the bed. They set everything up easily, and when Thor brought a set of sheets for her, she was laying in the center with her legs dangling off of the side. She sat up to look at him quizzically. 

“Thank you, Thor.” She said grudgingly. “I… Just...thanks.” 

“You’re welcome, Patricia.” He deposited them on the edge of the bed, and for a moment, he found himself tempted to tug her forward for a kiss—but dismissed it. That wasn’t the relationship they had. He watched her struggle with the bedspread for a few amusing minutes before crossing the hallway back into his own room. Amelia was still sleeping soundly in the center of his bed, snoring softly. Patricia had surrounded her with pillows, which Amelia had prompt spread out over, her arms and legs sticking out at awkward angles. 

In spite of himself, Thor smiled.  _ Adorable. _ It  _ had _ been a long day for her, waking up early to pack as many boxes as they could, and then sitting in the car while Patricia and Thor sniped back and forth at one another. No wonder she was tired and cranky.  _ Maybe Patricia was right.  _ He sat down on the bed gingerly, careful not to disturb her too much. It really was amazing, how much she looked like  _ both _ of them. She wrinkled her nose in her sleep, and Thor grinned. 

“Real cute when she sleeps, isn’t she?” Patricia asked quietly from behind him. She’d clearly bested the fitted sheet, and was now standing next to the bed, quietly observing their daughter alongside him. “Sometimes I can’t believe I  _ made _ her.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her raise an unconscious hand to her stomach. Unexpected bitterness filled him—-he’d missed that as well. 

“Did you… I mean, did you always want….” Thor trailed off, unsure of how to ask. If he’d been in her position, he couldn’t say he’d have kept a baby. Unmarried, fresh out of school… For the first time, Thor fleetingly thought about what it must have been like for her. Had her parents supported her? Had they been disappointed? He swallowed thickly at the thought; the weight of Odin’s disappointment was often crushing. 

“Did I want an abortion?” Patricia asked, and for the first time when their eyes met, there was no anger or hurt in them. “At first, yeah.” She admitted. “But I couldn’t… I couldn’t go through with it. I kept making the appointments and missing them.” Her voice was quiet. Thor didn’t really know anything about her pregnancy—he’d never bothered to even ask. “And then I was a month and a half pregnant, and by then I knew she wasn’t going anywhere.” 

Thor felt another pang of jealousy. He’d never gotten to see her pregnant, to go to ultrasounds or feel the baby kick.  _ Would I have gone if I’d known? _ He shook his head. It didn’t matter what he would have done—because he’d never gotten the chance to do it. He wondered if she’d known the baby’s gender before the birth or after. 

Patricia moved forward, leaning past him to reach for Amelia. She fussed a little, but Amelia hushed her, cradling her in her arms as she fell quickly back asleep. 

“Thank you again for the bed, Thor.” Her thanks were earnest.

He heard her door close behind him, and her footsteps faded.

—

The next morning, Thor was woken from sleep by the smell of food cooking. He didn’t usually keep the fridge or pantry particularly well stocked, considering he ate out for almost every meal. He frowned, before padding blearily down the stairs. He didn’t normally work Mondays—a caveat of his long weekends, usually spent drinking more alcohol than he cared to remember. It was early for him—before eight—and he rounded the corner into the open kitchen.

_ Sausage? _

Patricia was standing in his kitchen, flipping sausage links in a pan while Amelia chattered at the breakfast bar, swinging her legs wildly. 

“Door! Mommy, Door is here!” She pointed at him, her eyes wide. Thor was tired and he’d woken up feeling particularly cranky, but Amelia was as chipper and excitable as always, paying little heed to his sour mood. Patricia turned to look at him over her shoulder, and Thor felt his mood worsen as she raised a judgmental eyebrow at him. He was tempted again to take her to task, wipe the smug look from her pretty face and make her  _ beg _ —but Amelia was all too present. 

“I see him, Mels. What do we say? Good morning, Thor.” Patricia instructed, looking over her shoulder first at Amelia, and then at him. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt, her legs and feet bare. Her curly hair was piled messily on top of her head, and round glasses that Thor had never seen her wear before were perched on the edge of her slightly upturned nose. 

“Good morning, Patricia. Gone grocery shopping, I see.” He said, and she snickered. 

“Someone had to, this house was emptier than a Mets game.” She replied without missing a beat, glancing at him over her shoulder. 

“Goo’ Mornin!” Amelia chirped, turning to smile brightly at him, all yesterday’s animosity completely forgotten. She whirled back to her mother, her mouth going a mile a minute. “Mommy I have school today?”

“Of course you have school today, Mels. It’s Monday. You have to go to school, and Mommy and Thor have to go to work,” She explained. Patty muttered something Thor didn’t quite catch, though he could parse out the phrase  _ “real work”  _ from her grumbling. He felt ire rise in his chest, but he calmed himself. 

_ Long con. You’re playing the long con. _

Patricia brought over a small, colored plastic plate with Amelia’s blunted cutlery on it, and began cutting up her food when Thor stopped her. 

“I’ll do it. You get ready.” He said, watching her narrow her eyes suspiciously at him. She didn’t fight him on it in front of Amelia, relinquishing the fork and knife wthout a fight. 

“Oh. Um, okay. Thank you?” It came out as a question, and Thor nodded his head graciously. Patricia lingered for a moment, puttering around the kitchen as she watched them out of the corner of her eye. 

“You go to work?” Amelia asked him curiously as she chewed. 

“You should wait until you’re done chewing to talk to people, Amelia. But yes, I’m going to work today.” She chewed thoughtfully, still swinging her little legs. She swallowed before speaking again. “Like your mother.” 

“Where?”

“Um. I work in the same building as your school, Amelia. My father owns it.” Her eyes widened, and Thor was surprised by the spark of pride he felt in his chest at her amazed expression.  _ If only your mother was as easily impressed. _ He continued to cut up her eggs, and sliced the sausage into little pieces. 

“Wow!” He held the fork out for her, and Amelia grasped it with clumsy fingers. “I like school.” Thor had never really… spoken to a child before. Things he found obvious were completely new to her, but he found the glow in her eyes as she discovered new information to be strangely precious. 

“What, er… what are you learning in school?” He asked, taking a bite of his own food.  _ Good. _

“Show and tell! I like show and tell,” Amelia bounced in her seat. “And shapes! Dass a square,” She replied proudly as she pointed at one of the pictures on the wall. Thor heard the shower start upstairs, indicating that Patricia for now, at least, couldn’t interfere. Amelia puffed her little chest out, and Thor got the indication that he was supposed to be impressed, and acted accordingly. 

“Wow!” He replied in a booming voice, enjoying it when she slapped her tiny hands over her mouth as she giggled. “You’re so smart!” Amelia preened—she was a proud little thing, and it reminded him of himself. There were other similarities, ones he kept noticing the longer he was around her. Her stubbornness, the squared set of her jaw. It was more obvious than ever that Amelia was his— _ How Patricia thought she could deny the obvious is beyond me.  _ Though he knew Patricia would frown on this line of questioning, she wasn’t there to object. “Amelia, can you tell me about your family?” 

“Mommy!” She chirped, and Thor nodded, smiling. 

“Very good. Who else is in your family?” He asked patiently, stroking her head affectionately, testing a loose curl between his fingers. It was looser than her mothers, but still just as soft. 

“Gramma, and Gampa,” She said slowly, her face screwing up slightly as she thought. “Auntie Wanda! And ‘Merica!”  _ She still hasn’t told her. _ Thor kept his displeasure off of his face, though it wasn’t easy. Of course Patricia hadn’t told Amelia yet—it was clear her goal was to drive him away before it ever mattered. But Thor was just as, if not more, stubborn than she was, and it would take more than that to keep him from his daughter, now that he knew he had one. the 

“And what about your father? Daddy?” He asked, and Amelia furrowed her brows in confusion. “Where is he?” 

“I don’t… I don’t know,” she grimaced. She was fidgeting, glancing all around the room as she frowned. She sniffled, and Thor cursed inwardly. It seemed like this was something Amelia had never really questioned before. He hadn’t meant to upset her, only gauge what she thought. 

“Mels, what’s wrong?” Patricia’s worried voice came from behind him. Thor turned to see her, a towel wrapped around her body and her hair damp and dripping. “Thor, why is she so upset?” Amelia hopped down from the breakfast bar and ran over to her mother, attaching herself to one of her legs as Patricia glared at him accusingly. 

“Thor, I was gone  _ ten minutes! _ ” She hissed. “She looks like she’s about to cry!” It was true, Amelia didn’t really have the words to communicate her confusion, and it was making her upset. Amelia looked tearfully up at her mother. 

“Mommy, where is Daddy?” 

———

Patricia fumed the entire way to work, and had to fight from cursing when the Asgard building came into view. Amelia bounced excitedly; ready for school, her previous upset already forgotten. 

_ “Where is daddy?” _

Patricia had sputtered at her question. Of course Amelia knew about families—they had at least two books about them, packed away in boxes somewhere. She knew about parents, and siblings, but… Patricia had been careful. She made it clear who Amelia’s family was—grandmother, grandfather,  _ her. _ America and Wanda too—but not Thor. And when Amelia had looked up at her and asked that seemingly simple question, Patricia had been caught between a rock and a hard place. 

She’d scowled at Thor, whose attempt at placid innocence would have been laughable had it not been painstakingly clear that he was the one who had set Amelia on this course of thought in the first place. Patty wanted to scream—why was he doing this? Was it just to torture her? Had she really done  _ so wrong _ by keeping her pregnancy from him? Her mind was going around and around in circles, each thought biting the tail of the last. Maybe it had been cruel and selfish, but his current behavior made her feel fairly justified in doing so. 

He’d been successful in forcing her between a rock and a hard place. If she lied, he would he angry—Patty had swallowed thickly at the thought of his ire. And if she told the truth, there was  _ no way _ Amelia would be in any shape to go to school today. 

_ “He’s… it’s complicated, Amelia. You have a dad, sweetheart.” _ That reassurance seemed to satisfy her daughter’s worry, and her lip stopped trembling, though she wasn’t quite as bouncy as she had been when Patricia had gotten her up for breakfast just a short while before. Thor hadn’t come with her to drop Amelia off, apparently satisfied with the chaos he’d already managed to sow at seven thirty in the morning.  _ I want to wipe that smug look off his disgustingly handsome face. _

It wasn’t the thought itself that made Patricia start as she ushered Amelia into daycare, but the unnecessary descriptor she’d attached to it without meaning to. Of course Thor was handsome… Her cheeks flamed. 

“Sorry, we’re a little late this morning,” She said quietly, watching Amelia skip forward past the reception desk and over to one of the small learning areas where other children were being read to as they sat quietly. The receptionist shrugged. 

“No problem, Miss Hodgins. We’ll see you at pick-up.” 

The rest of Patty’s day was a blur of activity—sorting new art, returning phone calls. She completed each task mindlessly, her thoughts scattered elsewhere.  _ How do I tell her? _ The time was rapidly approaching when she would no longer be able to conceal who exactly Thor was to Amelia, and if she didn’t want her daughter to resent her forever, she needed to figure out the best way to do so. 

Patricia bitterly found herself wondering how Thor would continue to punish her when he could no longer hold Amelia’s hidden parentage over her head—no doubt he would find something. Suddenly, her mind conjured the image of Thor reading to Amelia, her tiny body tucked beside his on the bean bag, bright eyes watching him with rapt attention. In spite of everything, Patricia felt herself melt, just a little. At the very least, it was amusing to watch him attempt to keep up with their daughter’s rapid fire questions, ever changing moods, and seemingly never-ending well of energy. 

“Patricia, we’ve got some Klein pieces being delivered this evening, do you think you could stay an extra hour or two?” One of the other consultants was poking his head into the back office when she looked up, a pleading expression on his face. “Peggy’s leaving early to take the Judas to the MET for the opening tonight, and I have to go with her to help. You’re the only one who’ll still be around.” 

Patricia liked Peter Quill well enough as a coworker, and though they were relatively close in age, she often found him just a tad scatterbrained, not to mention immature. Patricia glanced up at the clock—only twenty minutes before the gallery closed. She’d only been working there a few weeks, not long enough to have a standing relationship with anyone. Peter had been there for years—an expert at appraisals. Saying no to him could have consequences. Patricia swallowed nervously. She’d be cutting it close to pick up Amelia, but…

“Um, sure. I think I can stay. How many pieces are we expecting? Evelynne didn’t say.” 

He grinned charmingly at her. “You’re a lifesaver, Patty.” Patricia waved him off, shaking her head. “No, seriously. I’m the idiot who double-booked myself.” He joked self-deprecatingly, jerking his thumb in his own direction. “Just two. Delivery guy said they’d probably be here before five.” 

“No worries, Peter. My pleasure.” Peter crossed the room in two long strides, sweeping Patricia up in a bear hug. She squeaked with surprise, before awkwardly returning the gesture. He released her after a moment, and as Patricia was smoothing her skirt, he leaned against the desk. 

“Let me repay you. Dinner? Drinks? On me.” 

“Peter… I don’t really know, I mean you really don’t have to,” she sputtered. He was handsome, funny… But Patty wasn’t one to date her coworkers. Peter held his hands up placatingly. 

“Totally platonic, I promise,” He replied evenly, lifting his hand to draw an “x” over his heart. “Scouts honor. There’s a couple of us going, a couple of the other consultants, Drax and Gamora. Plus, you know, boss lady’ll be there too.” Patricia felt her shoulders practically sag with relief. She didn’t know if she could take  _ another _ presence in her close personal life right now—between Amelia and Thor, there wasn’t much of Patricia left to go around if she was being honest. As much as she disliked the father of her child, she couldn’t deny that he occupied more space than she wanted to allow, both physically and in her thoughts. 

“Well I hope you’re an honorable scout, because I could definitely use a drink. How’s Friday?” She asked, and he nodded. 

“Be prepared to be serenaded, Drax gets very romantic when he’s drunk. Thanks again, Patty!” He replied, before heading back out of the storeroom. It would be nice to have a night away from Amelia that didn’t included getting the crap grilled out of her by Thor—it would be a welcome respite. 

Patty finished up her cataloguing, and then headed back to the front desk to wait for the delivery. Johann Klein was no small name in their gallery—a small, Sokovian artist who had gained international fame when his work was featured in a cultural exhibit at the Louvre. No coincidence that he was Wanda’s favorite artist, as a fellow Sokovian—even  _ if _ she’d been in the states since she was ten. 

_ P: We’re getting some Klein pieces in tonight, thought you might want to know so you could come see them, fangirl _

Wanda responded to Patricia’s ribbing almost instantly. 

_ W: 🙄 not responding to that. OOOOOOH!! I’ll be there. When’s the gallery open until??? I wanna see!  _

_ P: We’re closed for the night but we’re open late Thursday. I’ll bring your child, she’s been dying to see you _

_ W: it’s a date 😘 _

It was only half past four, and Patricia amused herself by scrolling on her phone until after five, when she began to feel a little impatient. The daycare closed at six, and while there was no hard rule about pick-up time, Patricia knew that it was likely Amelia wouldn’t have many other children to play with by now, if any were left at all.  _ Fuck. _ If she’d still been in Long Island, it wouldn’t have been difficult to have her mother or father pick Amelia up, but it would take over an hour to drive in during rush hour traffic, and Amelia certainly couldn’t wait that long. 

The last thing Patricia wanted to do was call Thor, but there weren’t many options. As the clock struck half past five, Patricia sighed in defeat, before reluctantly tapping Thor’s contact info. She’d saved his name under  _ Asshole _ , with several cursing emojis after it. It was childish, but it still made her giggle just a little before she pressed the call button. 

It rang once, twice, three times before being silenced, and Patricia was abruptly sent to voicemail. She narrowed her brows.  _ Did he just… screen my call? _ Pursing her lips, Patricia tried again. 

It took three more calls before Thor’s irritated voice boomed out of the receiver. 

“What?” He snapped. Patricia could hear what sounded like rustling, and a quiet, feminine giggle, and she rolled her eyes and clenched her jaw. “I’m… in the middle of something.” 

_ Balls deep in some _ **_one_ ** _ , more like. _ Patricia didn’t like the spark of jealousy that burned on her tongue as she spoke. 

“I need you to pick Amelia up from school, Thor.” She said quietly. “I had to stay late at work, and I’m worried I won’t be there by the time they need to close at six.” She heard Thor snort. 

“I’m  _ busy. _ ” Another little laugh. The woman said something too quiet to hear, and Patricia could hear movement. 

Patty knew it probably wasn’t wise to push him. She’d been on the receiving end of his ire since they’d reconnected, and she wasn’t stupid. Patricia knew that she’d only experienced a small portion of his wrath, and was loath to see him follow through on all of his idle threats. But Patricia’s maternal instincts had already begun kicking in, and she wasn’t about to back down now, not when her daughter needed him. 

“You don’t just get to be a parent when it’s fucking fun, Thor!” She shouted, slamming her hand against the desk so hard she knew he had to have heard it through the phone. “Amelia is alone at daycare, and she needs her  _ father _ to come get her! If this isn’t what you wanted, you should have left us in fucking Canarsie, we were doing fine without you!” She seethed, her heart racing. She was prepared for the barrage of condescending insults, but he only levied a heavy sigh at her after a few seconds of silence. 

“I’ll be there.” 

Patricia ended the call without saying anything further. Her pulse was still racing, her blood roaring in her ears. This was only a small victory, but Patricia felt the pleasure course through her just the same. It was ten to six when the delivery men finally got there, and after six thirty when Patricia had finished logging the paintings into the system, and locked them away safely in the vault all the way at the back of the gallery. 

She didn’t bother with the train that evening, and simply called a taxi back to Thor’s luxurious apartment. Patricia wondered if she would ever think of it as home. Thor had all the taste of a rich, urban socialite, and though his apartment was  _ gorgeous _ , it wasn’t… homey, or welcoming. It was cold and impersonal—a perfect reflection of its owner. He hadn’t responded as to whether he’d picked Amelia up or not, but as it was almost seven, she assumed he had. 

The lobby was almost as sparse and minimal as Thor’s apartment, and the security guard eyed her suspiciously as she fumbled with the card key for the penthouse elevator.  _ I know I don’t belong here either, buddy,  _ Patricia thought bad naturedly as she punched the “close door” button harder than she needed to. When she finally reached the top, the doors slid open and her ears were immediately assailed with Amelia’s excited shrieks. 

_ Yep, he got her alright. _ Patty kicked her shoes off, and padded towards the sounds with stockinged feet. Thor and Amelia were in the living room, and from the looks of things, it had only taken her just over an hour to utterly destroy his simple, clean living space. There were some boxes piled up against the distant walls, indicating that the movers had already dropped their things off. Patricia was surprised to see Amelia’s bean bag at the end of the sleek sectional couch. Patricia took the two short steps down into the sunken living area, peering around. As she observed, Amelia’s head popped up from the other side of the couch, and she shrieked upon seeing her mother, covering her mouth and ducking down again. 

“Mommy’s here!” She whispered excitedly, her still too-loud voice carrying easily. Thor’s deep answering chuckle made Patricia’s belly do a strange flip-flop. 

“Is she? Okay, we’re going to jump in three, two—” Thor stood from behind the couch, Amelia clutched in his arms. “Surprise!” Amelia laughed, clamoring out of Thor’s grip and scampering across the rug to slam into Patty’s legs. 

“Mommy! Mommy, Door came to my school!” She said excitedly, pointing back towards her father. Patricia snorted, before covering her growing smile with her hand. Thor was wearing Amelia’s fairy wings, which were hilariously small on him, and she’d given him the wand that accompanied the costume as well. 

“I see that! Did you have a good day at school?” She asked sitting down as Amelia clamored into her lap. Amelia began chattering instantly, and Patricia watched Thor settle not too far away, putting the glittery wand down on his once pristine coffee table. 

“I paint today, mommy!” She said excitedly, showing Amelia her finger-paint stained hands. “And, and, and we play games,” She said seriously, watching Patricia nod as she listened. The living room looked like an Amelia bomb had gone off in it—there were several of her books littering the floor and sitting on the couch, along with at least four toy horses that Patricia could count, and probably what were the entire contents of the dress-up chest that her grandmother had gotten her this past Christmas. 

Thor looked completely exhausted, though Patty didn’t blame him—it was clear Amelia had extra energy tonight, and it was going to be an uphill battle getting her to settle down, this Patricia knew from experience. She couldn’t help but giggle as Thor’s head sagged back against the couch cushions. 

“I’ll tell you what, why don’t you go play, and Mommy will start dinner?” Patricia asked, watching as Amelia considered her options. Patricia kissed her head, and bundled the little girl off of her lap. It looked like Amelia and Thor had had a go at quite a few of the boxes, and she tore through one of them, pulling out even more toys. Patricia looked over at Thor, who was regarding her silently. 

“I assume everything went okay at school,” She said, and he waited a moment before shrugging. 

“I wasn’t on the approved guardians list, but I smoothed that over.” Patricia winced—she’d forgotten to add him to the list of people allowed to pick Amelia up from school. She’d been meaning to do it, and just kept forgetting. It hadn’t helped either that she was still holding out hope that he would grow bored of this game and release them. 

“Damn. Sorry.” Thor raised a skeptical eyebrow, but Patricia gestured placatingly with her hands. “Really, I didn’t… that wasn’t on purpose, Thor.” Patricia reached up to loosen the bun she’d had her hair in all day, massaging her scalp and running her fingers through her curls. “I’m glad they let you take her. What did you tell them?” She asked, cocking her head. 

“I told them I was her father.” He said simply, and Patricia’s cheeks heated as she was reminded of her earlier thoughts. She glanced up to see if Amelia had heard, but the little girl was far too busy making her horses fight one another to listen to their boring adult conversation. 

“Of-of course.” She said tightly. She rose from the couch, and she could feel Thor’s eyes on her like physical weights, dragging down her form. “I’m going to go change.” It was clear her earlier assumptions had been correct—the movers had already dropped off their things. It seemed like Thor had already unpacked and set up most of Amelia’s room; her four poster bed sat against the wall, across from the huge window seat on the adjacent wall. Her bookshelf was put up, and while not all of her books were on it, many of them were. Her beanbag was downstairs, and so were a couple of her other things, but… It gave Patricia a warm feeling in her chest to think that Thor had gone through the trouble of setting up Amelia’s room. 

_ He probably paid someone else to do it. _ She thought snarkily, before heading to her own room to slide into a comfortable pair of leggings and a cropped tee. Thor was waiting for her in the hallway. 

“I saw Amelia’s room,” She said softly. “Did you… I mean, you hired someone, right?” She asked, and he shook his head. Patricia couldn’t help it when her mouth fell open just a little, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Thor didn’t particularly strike her as the  _ manual labor _ type. 

“A labor of love,” He said dryly. “Though I  _ did _ consider it.” The laughter bubbled out of Patricia before she could stop herself. She felt a little bad—it was clear Thor was attempting to connect with Amelia, and establish a relationship. Patricia sighed. 

“Thank you. For picking her up, I mean.” Patty said awkwardly.  _ Even though I had to practically beg you to do it. _ “I see she hasn’t destroyed  _ too _ much of your apartment.” 

“Yes, well… It’s all part of the job, right?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s your apartment too, Patricia.” He reminded her. She couldn’t help the little scowl that played on the edges of her lips at his words—of course he would say that, even though he’d bullied her into being here. 

“Yeah. It is, I guess.” She said slowly. 

Amelia was still playing when they came back downstairs, and hardly seemed to notice their absence as she made her plastic horses gallop all over the backs of the furniture. Patty headed to the kitchen, before beginning to search through the fridge for something to cook. She could feel Thor’s presence lingering nearby. He was seated at the dining room table, where he could easily watch both her, and Amelia, though his attention was clearly on the latter. Patty couldn’t help stealing glances, letting out an amused chuckle as their daughter climbed up into the chair beside him and began chattering away. 

It was good to see he could be patient, even if he had a long way to go. Patty was in the process of cleaning up their hasty dinner when the shrill sound of the door buzzer went off, startling her. She dropped the lid of the pot with a loud  _ CLANG _ , her hand flying to her chest. Thor looked equally surprised, knitting his brows together as their eyes met. 

“Expecting company?” Patricia asked, bending to pick up the fallen cookware. He shook his head, putting down the book he’d been reading to Amelia. 

“Not that I know of.” He rose to his feet, hushing Amelia gently when she whined that he’d stopped. The buzzer rang again impatiently, and Thor strode across the living room and down the entry hall to the elevator. Patty knew from experience that there were only two ways to get up to the penthouse—either with a personalized card key, or the be sent up by the doorman. Clearly this was the latter. Patty poked her head around the corner, watching curiously as Amelia clung to her legs. 

“Who at the door, Mommy?” She asked impatiently, tugging on Patricia’s arm. She could only shrug. Thor punched the open button, and a tall, willowy blonde stepped out, poking her finger into Thor’s chest. She reminded Patty of a barbie.

“What the fuck, Thor?” She shrilled. “You said later  _ four hours _ ago,” She whined, pressing herself against his surprised, rigid form and curling a lock of his golden hair around her finger. Patricia’s jaw dropped open in shock.  _ No fucking way.  _ The blonde brought her hands to his shoulders, but Thor seemed to get his bearings, and caught her wrists in one large hand. Patricia scooped Amelia into her arms, hushing her when she fretted. 

“It’s… not a good time, Idunn,” He said harshly, glancing over his shoulder at Patty and Amelia. The woman— _ Idunn?— _ cast a disparaging glare in the direction Thor had looked, and her eyes first widened in shock as they met Patricia’s, and then narrowed in rage. She shoved her way past a shocked Thor and stalked over to the kitchen, where Patricia hurriedly backed away, still holding Amelia. 

“Who the fuck is  _ this? _ ” She asked, stomping an expensive heel against the hardwood flooring. Amelia whimpered at the yelling, and Patricia frowned. She rounded on Thor, pointing a manicured finger accusingly at Patty.  _ “Who is she?! _ ” 

“I’m right here,” Patricia muttered, stroking Amelia’s head soothingly. “And who are  _ you?” _ She asked pointedly, refusing to be cowed. Idunn squinted at Amelia, her gaze traveling from her, to Patricia, to Thor, and then back to Amelia again. A knowing smirk appeared on her lips. 

“Go play in your room, baby.” Patty muttered. Perhaps she could feel her mother’s ire, or sense the quickly escalating situation between the three of them, but Amelia obeyed instantly, and Patricia waited until she was gone from sight to raise an accusatory finger at the other woman. “You barge in here, yelling, scaring my daughter,” She snapped, grimacing when Thor got between the two of them. “I don’t know what you’re thinking is going on here, but it definitely isn’t.” 

Idunn sneered at her, raking her eyes over Patricia’s plain leggings, and t-shirt, her lip curling. It was obvious that Patty was being judged—and found wanting. Her curly hair was pulled into a loose messy bun, in extreme contrast to the loose, blonde waves that Idunn clearly spent a great deal of time cultivating.  _ Thor couldn’t have found a more opposite set of women if he tried.  _ Patricia knew she wasn’t Thor’s… typical type, but with what amounted to a super model in front of her, she was forced to take stock. 

“Idunn, calm down,” Thor replied harshly, placing a hand on her shoulder. She threw his hand off, continuing to glare menacingly at Patty. “You’re making a scene, I can explain—” Idunn cut him off, her offended gasp silencing him. 

“ _ I’m _ making a scene?” She shrieked loudly, throwing her hands into the air. “You’re here playing house with the goddamn  _ help _ , and  _ I’m _ making a scene? Does Odin know about your fucking charity case?” Patricia’s mouth dropped open, rage beginning to boil in her gut. It didn’t matter  _ who _ Idunn was,  _ no one _ talked about her daughter that way. Before she could speak, however, Thor grasped Idunn’s wrist tightly in one hand, and she winced, struggling against his grip. 

“I want you to think  _ very carefully _ about the next thing you say, Idunn. You will  _ not _ speak about  _ my  _ child like that.” Idunn opened her mouth to speak, but Thor didn’t let her. “You show up to my home unannounced and uninvited, and then have the  _ nerve _ …” Thor flexed his other hand, clenching it tightly. 

“So she  _ is _ yours,” Idunn breathed, using his momentary lapse to snatch her hand away. “My father will  _ never _ let you marry me now,” She gloated, crossing her arms and staring down her nose at a fuming Patricia. “Not when you’re _ indisposed. _ ” 

Surprisingly, Thor emitted a deep chuckle. “Idunn, I was never going to marry you.” She sputtered at this, and he squared his shoulders, peering down intimidatingly at her. It was hard to stand up to him when he did that, and Patricia found herself feeling just a  _ little _ bad for Idunn; having to face him down. “Leave. Before I call your father and tell him you’re panting after me like a bitch in heat.” 

Idunn recoiled as though she’d been slapped, turning and marching out of the apartment. The elevator dinged, signaling she was gone, and Thor’s shoulders sagged as he clapped a hand to his forehead, cursing. 

_ “God fucking dammit.” _

Patricia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Girlfriend?” She asked dryly, pursing her lips. Who was Odin? And…why wouldn’t he know about her and Amelia? It was clear they had an intimate relationship—why else react so poorly to Patricia’s presence? Thor turned to scowl at her, shaking his head. 

“Something like that.” 

Patricia found herself wondering what their relationship actually was, how close they were. Her thoughts turned back to the other night, and she felt even more uneasy. They’d had sex not that long ago… Patricia pinched the bridge of her nose.  _ She _ was the “other woman”. 

Great. 

“You know, it would have been good to know you were  _ seeing someone _ before you fucked me,” She snapped, stalking over to the fridge. She pulled the door open, grabbing a bottle of wine from the door and then slammed it back shut. “That’s pretty goddamn low of you.”  _ Not to mention now I feel like shit. _

Thor had the nerve to smirk at her. “I didn’t hear you complaining then,” He replied. “We were hardly exclusive.” He sighed. He didn’t look particularly guilty, either. “You might not understand this yet,” He reached for the bottle himself, motioning for Patricia to remove another glass from the cupboard. She did, grudgingly. “But there are certain… expectations I have to meet.” His voice turned sour, and Patricia took a large swallow of wine.  _ Ah. Here it is. _ She thought bitterly.  _ The part where he tells me I’m not good enough. _

“Mmhmm.” Patricia narrowed her eyes at him, pressing her lips into a thin line. “And those would be?”

“Marry right. Take over the business. Keep our line strong.” He replied without hesitation, and Patricia got the sneaking suspicion he wasn’t pulling this out of thin air. It had been drilled into him by someone else. Maybe not so nicely, either. Patty smiled bitterly. 

“Well, we never meant to screw up your arranged marriage by virtue of existing, and all,” Patricia said snarkily. “Maybe if you explained… everything to her, it would help.” She offered, but he shook his head. “Tell her you and me… we’re not anything.” He rolled his eyes at her words, and an unreadable expression crossed his face before he shrugged. 

“It’s no use now. There’s no talking to her like that.” He sounded as though he was speaking from experience.

“Well, you know, just saying, if you’d told her you were moving your baby-mama into your apartment  _ before _ you did it, it probably would have made less of a mess.” An irritated expression crossed his face, and realization dawned on Patricia like a lightbulb going off in a dark room. “Oh my  _ god.”  _ She barked out a derisive laugh. “You  _ couldn’t _ tell her, could you? What are we, your dirty little secret?” Her tone was scathing. “So this whole time you’ve been trying to fuck me, you’ve been toying with her too? No wonder she came in here screaming bloody murder at you—”

“You sound jealous, Patricia. Want me all to yourself?” He drawled, and Patty was seized with the urge to hurl her wine glass at his head. 

_ “Jealous?” _ She repeated incredulously. “What would I possibly—” Patricia was officially in defense mode, her voice rising in volume. Thor was unfazed by this, pushing his chair away from the counter and making his way over to her. He caged Patricia in against this sink as she shuddered, pressing himself against her. 

“If you want me, Patty, all you have to do is say.” She hoped to god he didn’t see the little tremor that passed through her. She couldn’t help it, not when he used  _ that _ voice. Patricia glared up at him, but Thor continued to smile disarmingly down at her, lifting a hand to stroke her chin gently.  _ God _ , it was like he was seeing directly into her with those cold blue eyes. She didn’t want to admit her jealousy, because if she did, Patty would have to admit that part of her  _ wanted _ him—and there was no way she was doing that.

“I—I don’t—” He kissed her, sweeping his tongue into her open mouth as Patricia struggled for words. She hadn’t been prepared for this, and like the bastard he was, Thor was ready and willing to take advantage. He sucked on her bottom lip until it throbbed, releasing it to go to work on her throat. 

“You don’t understand yet,” He murmured against her skin. Patty hated the way his touch made her head all foggy, made her forget just how much she hated him. “Doing this for your own good.” His hand skirted over her hip, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He pulled away then, leaving her standing panting and confused in the kitchen, the wine glass trembling in her hand as he headed upstairs to check on Amelia.

_ What the hell just happened?! _


End file.
